The Project
by Teufel1987
Summary: The Department of Mysteries had known about the prophecy tying Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort. They also knew that Voldemort wasn't vanquished for good that fateful night Harry Potter became the Boy-Who-Lived. The fate of the Wizarding World shouldn't be left up to one child...
1. Prologue

**So I am back on the horse, as it were. This is a little idea that came to me awhile back.  
**

 **This story is a bit on the short side, and unlike my first multi-chaptered story, fully written before publishing. So that means regular updates!**

 **Expect a chapter every week. They will be around twenty-two chapters, and they will be _short_.**

 **Now I would put a disclaimer, but then there are no rules that make it compulsory ... and I am the last person to go above and beyond when I don't really need to. Besides, it is obvious that this is fan fiction (it's in the site's name!).**

 **Anyway, this is the prologue. The first chapter will be up the next week!  
**

 **Again, don't expect long chapters at all. The length may pick up later, though.  
**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

A man entered a shadowy room containing four individuals as heavily cloaked and disguised as he was. Closing the door behind him, he came to stand in front of the table.

'Report,' said one of the seated figures.

'Sir, our source indicates that the target has indeed faced a form of The Nemesis.'

A collective breath was taken at this announcement.

'How sure is your source?'

'As sure as can be, sir. A cursory scan of the minds of the target's friends have given our inside-man enough reason to sneak in and perform light Legilimency on the target himself. The results more than confirm the rumours that have been flying around.'

Unseen eyebrows were raised.

'Legilimency?' said the second seated shadowy figure. 'Performed by someone so young? That too on a person as young as the target? That is a tad risky…'

'I will have you know that while our operative may have just reached majority, he is a highly talented student. His skills in the mind arts are second to few.' The first seated figure said stiffly.

'I am just saying that we should-'

'That is quite enough,' the third seated figure interjected, averting what would have been a tedious oft-repeated and pointless argument. 'Everybody here knows how skilled the young man is, after all, we did _hire_ the lad! And we did it after rigorously testing him. Then we trained him till his brain was about to come out of his ears. We all also share the same concerns about the skills being put into play. So how about we focus on what's important right now?'

'As I was saying,' said the standing figure. 'The rumours have been confirmed. The Nemesis was defeated by the target.'

'How did that happen?' the third figure said curiously.

In response, the standing figure took out a phial of an ethereal substance.

Without further ceremony, a Pensieve was produced and the memory was poured into it. The four individuals dived into it. A moment later they sat back.

'That is … interesting.' The second seated individual said.

'I think this is enough to give The Project a go?'

At once, the three seated people turned to look at their colleague, the fourth figure who had yet to say a thing.

The figure in question seemed to ponder this for a long moment before nodding silently.

'Proceed.'

* * *

 **So that's the prologue. It is short. I know. If you want a long prologue, I suggest reading _Lord of the Rings_. That prologue is more than a hundred pages long.**


	2. Too Little Too Late

Albus Dumbledore rushed towards the atrium of the Ministry of Magic as fast as his legs could carry him. Not having the time to wait for a lift, he was forced to climb the stairs with as much speed as he could. He might be powerful for his age, and his magic might help a lot when it came to ensuring that he was more athletic than his peers, but the fact was that he was more than a century and a half old. Running was definitely a young man's game.

For the nth time that night, his mind went over the circumstances that lead to this situation.

It was with a deep sense of foreboding that he reached Grimmauld Place and found it empty except for a cackling House-Elf.

Kreacher had told him that Sirius had gone to the Department of Mysteries. But it was more than evident that the House-Elf was keeping something from him.

With judicious use of Legilimency, it wasn't long before Albus got to the bottom of the matter.

Furious (and not a little scared) he had Apparated straight to the Ministry.

The battle he found raging in the Department of Mysteries was intense, but he was able to use the element of surprise and round up the Death Eaters.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough. He had turned just in time to see Sirius falling through the veil of death, felled by his own cousin.

Rounding up the remaining Death Eaters in the Death Chamber took up his attention, relegating the loss to the back of his mind. A part of him noted that Remus had Harry restrained, preventing the boy from committing suicide.

He had not expected Bellatrix to dispatch Kingsley so easily. Turning around, he snapped off a spell hoping to incapacitate her, only to watch in frustration when she blocked it without as much as pausing on her way out.

That's when things got even worse.

Albus still didn't know why he had frozen when Harry had gone off in pursuit of the mad Death Eater in grief-stricken rage. He berated himself again as he reached the last staircase. He should have done something!

Reaching the top, he took a moment to collect himself before striding forward. He would definitely need the respite for the inevitable battle ahead. Catching a glimpse of the tableau before him, however, he was forced to lengthen his stride. Voldemort had come to the Ministry, after all. And he and Bellatrix were both closing in on a schoolboy whom he had utterly failed.

He was just within range to act when the fireplace just towards his left came to life.

'What the – Dumbledore?!' said the Auror who came out of the fire. Quickly shrugging off any drowsiness he was feeling, he brought his wand up to bear.

Albus had no choice but to deal with this threat first. With nary a flick, he slapped away the spell and froze the arm holding the wand to the caster's side.

'AVADA KEDAVRA!'

Hearing the high cold voice of Voldemort brought the previous urgency back to Albus' mind. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered that the Auror had also turned and was dumbly staring at the impossible in fear.

But that didn't really matter to Albus as he could only watch helplessly as Harry Potter was enveloped by the green light of the Killing Curse.

A gamut of emotions swept through Albus' mind as he comprehended what he had seen. Chief amongst them was fury.

He turned at the Auror next to him and gave him a long look convening his disappointment and disgust with the man and by proxy the Ministry of Magic. If he did not have to deal with this man, he would have been able to intercept that spell, and Harry would still be...

'Go and alert your superiors that Harry Potter and I were right all along, if you can.' He said flatly. 'Meanwhile, I will try to minimise the damage already caused by you and yours. Meanwhile I hope it pleases you to know that an innocent boy has just lost his life thanks to your interference.'

Not giving the stricken Auror a second thought, Dumbledore turned on his heel and disappeared.

Reappearing behind the destroyed fountain and in front of Voldemort, Albus used the distraction his sudden appearance had caused to animate the statues to life. The golden statue of the witch, now strengthened to withstand spells, went rushing towards Bellatrix, pinning the Death Eater down.

Voldemort was quick to recover. Vanishing from sight and reappearing near the pool of water, he paid no mind to the headless statue of the wizard as it gently picked up the body of the brat. He registered that the statues of the goblin and elf had gone towards the fireplaces, no doubt to alert the incompetents who worked for the government, but he similarly did not care for them either. It was about time that the world knew that Lord Voldemort was back.

No, his attention was only on his opponent. It wasn't the first time he had seen such a look of cold anger in those blue eyes, but it was the first time he had felt so much intensity.

A smile of anticipation came on his face. Clearly, the brat's death had affected his former Transfiguration teacher dearly.

'You should not have come here, Tom,' Dumbledore said coldly.

* * *

 **Here's chapter one. As you can see, it ends in a cliffhanger.**

 **Well, see you next week!**


	3. Discovery

'Guys, you have got to see this!'

The voice of Nymphadora Tonks brought Remus out of his grief stricken haze. Looking up, he caught the expression of surprise on the pretty young witch's face as she looked at the tableau in front of her.

Clearing his throat, Remus fought down the flush of embarrassment as he looked at the beaten up form of Lucius Malfoy. Only a few moments back, the freshly captured Death Eater had decided to taunt Remus about Sirius' death as they waited for Dumbledore and the Ministry to arrive and take him and his cohorts into custody.

Malfoy certainly had not been expecting the vicious left hook that floored him. Nor was he expecting the hail of punches and kicks as an enraged werewolf proceeded to show his displeasure.

It was only Kingsley's intervention that prevented the blond man from being beaten to death. Not that the Death Eater had got off lightly. The only reason Malfoy was not curled up into a ball was because of Dumbledore's charms containing him.

Remus was about to have another go at the Death Eater, spells be damned, when Tonks had appeared at the top of the Death Chamber.

Now back to his senses, Remus felt a bit abashed at having lost control like that. Straightening his robes, he calmly said, 'and that is why, Malfoy, you don't mess with a werewolf. Especially when you are disarmed and at his mercy.'

Turning around, he nodded to Kingsley and slicking back his hair, approached Tonks and Moody.

'Yes, what is it?' he said pleasantly.

'Um,' Tonks said, thrown by the scene in front of her. 'Right, Moody and I were doing a sweep of the premises, you know, just in case, and we found something...' she trailed off, still staring at Lucius.

'I see,' Remus replied with forced calm. 'Well, then, lead the way!'

Remus waited till the Auror was out of hearing range before whispering into Moody's ear. 'You know, Alastor, I think old Lucy there really thinks scars are cool … what say you and Shacklebolt there give him a few? Maybe you can put one on his face…'

The old retired Auror grunted, fixing him with a beady stare as his magical eye looked at the captives. Somehow he looked even more menacing with a bandage wrapped around his head. 'I will take that under advisement. But I make no promises, Lupin.'

Smiling in a self-satisfied sort of way, Remus went to catch up with Tonks. 'He was talking about how happy he was that Sirius died.' Remus said simply to the unasked question in the woman's eyes.

Tonks just blinked. 'Well, then, I suppose it is a good thing that he fell afoul of a few spells in the fight before.'

Suddenly she stumbled. Concerned, Remus rushed to her aid. 'Are you alright?' he asked as he steadied her.

'Peachy,' she replied tersely grimacing in pain. Taking a deep breath, she resumed hobbling back towards the door. 'Body's one big bruise, but I should be fine.'

Remus followed behind, ready to catch her again. Between her clumsiness, and the various injuries she had sustained, he was surprised she had managed so far without falling over. In his opinion, she should have been taken straight to St Mungo's instead of revived. But the young Auror had been adamant in staying behind.

Tonks silently lead Remus down a maze of corridors, coming to a halt outside a door.

'This may be a bit of a shock,' she said gently as she pushed open the door.

Time seemed to come to a standstill for Remus, as he stood there looking into the room, trying to get his brain to understand what his eyes were telling him.

'Bloody hell!'

* * *

The dark-robed man crossed the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts with quick strides. Ignoring the openly curious glances sent his way with practised ease, he made his way towards the office of the headmaster.

After a moment of internal struggle, he reluctantly said 'fizzing whizbees'. He wasn't particularly fond of sweets in general.

Riding the moving stairs, he briskly tapped on the door and strode into the room without even waiting for a response whereupon he perched upon a vacant chair.

'Do come in, Saul,' the headmaster said with a cheerful smile that thoroughly annoyed his visitor. With a twitch of his beard, Dumbledore added 'Please, make yourself comfortable.'

'Albus,' Saul Croaker said in clipped tones. 'You have called and so I have arrived. Although, I suppose that allowing me access to your fireplace is too much to ask.'

'There have been some … security concerns ever since I returned to the school. In light of that, I have been forced to come to the unfortunate conclusion that Hogwarts being connected to the Floo network at this point is just not feasible. I am sure you understand. Not to worry, though, I will have that remedied soon.' The old wizard said with a sorrowful expression on his face that Saul wasn't stupid enough to fall for. 'Until then, I am afraid visitors will have to arrive at the gates and make their way to the castle from there. Thank Merlin for the carriages. At least they ensure that one doesn't have to _walk_ all the way up to the castle.'

'I see,' Saul said in response. 'I would have hoped that your grouse with the ministry would not have extended to my department. The Department of Mysteries was not responsible for what has happened the past year.'

'Now, Saul,' Dumbledore said in a disappointed voice. 'I most certainly do not hold your department responsible for the past year, especially for actions that were perpetrated by Cornelius. No, my displeasure with your department has everything to do with what your department did much, much earlier. As you well know.'

'Yes, about that,' Saul cleared his throat. 'I must insist that you return what you took from our premises, Dumbledore. After all, that is a Department of Mysteries project.'

The air in the office seemed to grow colder at that statement.

'It is only because of our long standing friendship that I have called you here in confidence.' Dumbledore said softly. 'If you think I am going to be doing what you ask me to do, then you have been taken by the very myth that your department has been purporting these past years about being above the law and answerable to nobody. I am confident that anyone who succeeds Cornelius is going to be _very_ interested in what I have found.'

Saul Croaker deflated. He knew that the headmaster had him over a barrel the minute he had got a summons from the old man mere hours after the break-in. Dumbledore held all the cards. All he could do was watch him play them and hope that he wouldn't be too ruined. He knew that his demand was all bluster, and he had full expectation about the headmaster knowing that as well. But the statement had to be made for appearances sake.

'In light of current circumstances, I find my willingness for pointless wordplay and political games severely lacking.' Dumbledore said flatly.

'"Current Circumstances"?' Croaker repeated derisively. 'You make it sound like a major tragedy has taken place. Yes, Voldemort's return was made public recently, but that is hardly a shock considering that he had been around for quite a while. And at the end of the day, the collateral damage was minimal. Which is quite something considering any event involving the dark wizard and his followers.'

The decidedly unfriendly expression on the headmaster's, his normally brilliant blue eyes hard and as cold as ice face spoke volumes.

Croaker inhaled. Clearly the old man was far too touchy at the moment. 'Fine,' he snapped wearily. 'What do you want?'

'We can begin with the truth,' was the curt response. 'The whole complete truth. And if I even detect even a hint of deception or withholding of facts … well, I doubt you will appreciate what I will do to you.'

* * *

 **Yes, another cliffhanger, I know.**

 **I would apologise for the short length, but there are no site rules that give you a minimum chapter length. Also, I think this is the right place to end a chapter.  
**

 **And I did say that it would be a _short_ story.**

 **Edit on 10th May: I do not know what the deal with this site is, when I uploaded the chapter last week, there were some ... problems with the alerts and the chapter itself. Hopefully they have been sorted out.**

 **Anyway, don't worry about the timetable being changed! The next chapter will be up this Friday, the 12th of May 2017  
**


	4. Fudge

Holding a glass of firewhisky in his hand, Fudge stared blankly around him. He couldn't help the yearning and desperation from showing on his face as his eyes came to rest at the rather large and ornate fireplace of his equally large and ornate office. It was almost as if he was hoping for some form of comfort to come out from there in a rush of green flames.

Unfortunately for him, at the moment, the fireplace in the office of the Minister of Magic was as devoid of his sought-after comfort as it was of fire.

It had been barely two days after the disaster that was the public revelation of the continued existence of You-Know-Who and things were quite quickly going to pot.

Almost against his will, his gaze returned to the day's edition of the Daily Prophet sitting on his desktop. He winced again at the headline screaming "YOU-KNOW-WHO HAS RETURNED!" The Prophet had been quite willing to collude with him this past year, seeing as his story not only made sense (and to be frank, it had at the time!) but because he was the man in power. Now that Dumbledore and the boy had been proven to be right, the media was more than happy to rake his name over the coals, as evidenced by the sub-headline right underneath saying "FUDGE FUDGES THINGS UP". At least the previous day had been quieter, considering that the paper hadn't had the time to fully process the news.

Just then, his principal private secretary peeked his head through the door. 'Sir, your political advisor is here to see you.'

'Show her in,' Fudge said hurriedly, throwing the contents of the glass into his mouth.

A woman entered the office. Fudge always thought that she looked as if she had been poured into her clothes but forgot to say "when". However, he wasn't fool enough to say that out loud in the intimidating woman's presence. Not that he was in much of a mood to do anything except hold his head in his hands as she took a seat offering only a perfunctory greeting.

'Well, this is a mess.' She said primly, picking up the paper and glancing at the article. 'A real mess.' She commented again as she tossed it towards the bin, not even flinching when the dustbin jumped in the air and caught the paper.

'What do I do, Marge?' Fudge asked plaintively, ignoring the sounds of the bin devouring the paper.

The woman looked at him unsympathetically. In her largely unexpressed opinion, the minister had just about enough intelligence to open his mouth when he wanted to eat and no more. 'Oh, is it my advice that you want?' she said tartly. 'Well, I suppose you have no other avenue to turn to, have you? I haven't heard a word from Dolores since the fiasco that occurred at Hogwarts a little over forty-eight hours ago. And Lucius …' she smiled nastily. 'Well, I doubt we'll be hearing from him again very soon. Azkaban doesn't really allow regular visits, and they most certainly don't allow inmates the chance to pop by here for tea whenever they like. Especially when the said inmate is a Death Eater!'

There was a moment's silence.

'Yes,' Fudge said as he looked at her with hopeful eyes. 'Please, Marge. I would be ever so grateful.'

'Yes, quite.' Marge responded, unimpressed. 'I do not know how I can get you out of this mess, Cornelius. After that night in Hogwarts … there is talk of charges being filed against Dolores, the Auror department and you as well. Scrimgeour is on the warpath seeing as the incident put quite a bit of dirt on his face. And Amelia … that woman has been practically frothing at the mouth. Not only has she put the screws on Scrimgeour, but I know her well enough to tell you that the only reason she is quiet right now is because she has something big planned just for you.'

'I am sure something could be worked out,' Fudge said nervously. 'After all, it was all just a terrible misunderstanding! Hagrid can have his job back.'

'I doubt giving one half-giant his job back is going to help matters any, Cornelius.' Marge said blandly in response. 'Especially now that Dumbledore has happily waltzed into the school and everyone, including the Board of Governors, is pretending that he never left. Speaking of which, a little birdie told me that they are planning on using that night's fiasco in pushing for autonomy in their next meeting.' She sighed. 'At least you haven't thought of arresting Dumbledore for the destruction done to government property.'

'Why? Do you think that would be a good idea?'

Hearing that eager question, Marge realised that she had said that last sentence out loud. Also, Fudge had taken her seriously. 'No!' she said quickly. 'Do that and you might as well commit political suicide! The papers will tear you to shreds, not to mention what Bones and Scrimgeour will do when they hear of this! And honestly, you want to try and arrest _Albus Dumbledore_? Again? Especially in light of recent events? You _do_ remember being in the atrium that night, don't you?'

Fudge knew what she meant. No matter how much he would love to forget about the fiasco that happened when he first tried to arrest Dumbledore, he wouldn't ever be able to forget the fight he had been witness to in the Ministry Atrium that night.

He remembered it just like it was yesterday. And considering that it had actually happened two nights back, he wasn't far off the mark.

A loud blaring indicating an incoming emergency call was what had roused him and his wife from a restful slumber.

He remembered making his way down to the drawing room fireplace blearily, rubbing his eyes with one hand while adjusting the dressing gown with his other.

All sleepiness had evaporated the moment he heard the words coming out the frantic Auror's mouth.

'Professor Dumbledore is here! And he's fighting You-Know-Who!'

In hindsight, Fudge considered himself lucky that he hadn't gone with his initial instinct of just rubbishing those fanciful sounding claims and gone back to sleep. He wouldn't be able to live it down if he had.

He had stepped out of the safe confines of his home into the Ministry of Magic where it quickly became apparent that it, at the moment, was the least safe place to be.

The once pristine atrium was swiftly being torn to shreds as two clearly powerful wizards were locked in deadly combat. The first thing Fudge had noticed was the state of The Fountain of Magical Brethren. The water in the basin had long since drained out of a large crack, sloshing around the wooden floors of the atrium and the feet of the two combatants who were unmindful of that as they splashed about and tried their level best to best the other.

On one side was Dumbledore, flanked by the golden statues of the Wizard and the Centaur that were constantly circling him and his opponent. On the other side…

A shiver of horror went down Fudge's spine when he saw who it was. There was no mistaking the demonic visage of the Dark Lord. Fudge had only seen that face once years ago, and there was no way he was ever going to forget it.

He barely registered Amelia and Rufus being dragged out of the fireplaces by the statues of the house-elf and the goblin. They had been indignant at first, but quickly forgot all about it the moment they saw what was going on. They were soon joined by a good portion of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A lot of the Aurors in that group had gone through the unpleasantness all those years back and instantly recognised who Dumbledore was fighting.

Amelia hadn't even noticed the monocle falling out of her eye.

Wrenching his thoughts back to the present, Fudge mopped his suddenly sweaty face with a handkerchief. 'Yes, well, you should be happy to know that I have already sent out the order to have all those ministerial decrees revoked effective immediately.' Adopting a darker tone, Fudge muttered, 'The old man is definitely going to be happy that we aren't going to be interfering with his domain anymore.'

'Well, that is a good move,' his advisor said with a mixture of approval and surprise. 'It was something that I was going to suggest, honestly. Remove them before anyone has the chance to force you into removing them. At least this way, we can present the appearance of a Minister who is willing to admit to his mistakes and working to rectify those mistakes.'

'Yes,' Fudge said with the beginnings of a smile. 'That is a good idea!' He turned to Marge, a light in his eyes. 'We can issue a press statement. Tell them that I am only a man, after all. All men make mistakes, but one must move on and work to correct those mistakes. To err is human and all. In fact, I'll take the opportunity to announce that I am giving Dumbledore back his position as Chief Warlock. It certainly should help.'

'That _is_ a good idea,' Marge said, making a note. 'However,' she looked at Fudge gravely. 'I doubt this will be enough. You are going to need a much stronger statement to get confidence back. I won't lie, the past events have done quite a bit of damage to your image. Especially in light of what, ahem, _he_ had said.'

Fudge visibly deflated. 'I'll need a miracle to keep my job!' He said despairingly. Having You-Know-Who appear in the middle of the atrium of the Ministry of Magic was itself a bad thing. The speech given by the Dark Lord to all and sundry when there was a lull in their duel just compounded matters.

A part of Fudge still shrivelled in shame at the thought of being credited with allowing You-Know-Who to gather his strength for a year in peace. Though, that was nothing compared to being acknowledged by the gleefully cackling dark wizard as the cause behind the death of Harry Potter. The evil man was more than happy to tell everyone that he had struck Potter down with the Killing Curse all the while mocking Fudge for not believing the boy who he sardonically called a "hero better than all the spineless sheep in the ministry".

Suddenly an idea came to him. 'A miracle!' he said, snapping his fingers. 'I know what to do,' He practically leapt to his feet in excitement. 'I'll get back to you in a few minutes, Marge, I have an idea!' Saying this, he started moving towards the door of the office.

'And what idea is this?' Marge asked in concern as she followed him. Experience told her that it was generally a bad thing when Fudge had one of his "ideas".

'Oh but that's a secret!' Fudge said knowingly, tapping his nose. 'I'll let you know later when I am successful.' Saying so, he ushered her out of the door.

'If, Minister,' Marge said to the closed door in front of her. ' _If,_ not _when_ '

Turning around she decided that now would be the best time to go and search for a new boss. If she was lucky, she might end up advising Fudge's replacement.

* * *

 **And here we have chapter 3. As you can see, it is a bit longer...**

 **By the way, anyone notice that there was some weird problem with the alerts recently? It made uploading chapters very problematic for me!**


	5. A Meeting Interrupted

'Come in,'

Albus smiled as his visitor entered the office and plonked himself on the chair in front of him.

'I hope you had adequate rest?'

Harry shrugged. 'I suppose,' he muttered.

'So what brings you to my office?' Dumbledore said curiously. 'I admit that I did not expect to see you here so soon. Especially not of your own initiative.'

Harry looked at the pleasant expression on the headmaster's face. 'Well,' he finally said uncomfortably. 'I had some things to tell you. Unfortunately, I couldn't really do that seeing the last time…' he made an odd gesture with his hand, referring to the previous time he met the headmaster after coming back from the disaster at the Ministry.

'I see,' Dumbledore said neutrally. 'Well, I am at your disposal.'

'Right,' Harry said. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say quite a few times in his head, but now, sitting across the headmaster and looking at the pleasantly alert expression on Dumbledore's face, he found words failing him.

'Well, you know how I was hit with the Killing Curse and sort of … died?'

Harry noted warily that this was the first time he had seen Dumbledore look so intent. Clearly his opening was more explosive than he thought.

'After having seen you get up on your own power and take Voldemort, Bellatrix, quite a significant portion of the Ministry, and last but not least, me by surprise, I assumed that you had not been affected by the Killing Curse at all.' Dumbledore said quietly.

By now, Harry had the undivided attention of not only the current headmaster, but the portraits of the previous headmasters as well. A part of him wondered why they were being so nosy. But then again, surviving a Killing Curse was unheard of, let alone two. The Daily Prophet had run quite a front page spread of the whole thing with his picture dominating half of it. What was more, they had done something to ensure that his pictorial version did nothing more than just stand there and look at people sullenly.

Harry suspected the usage of curses. He felt a little sorry for his pictorial self.

'Ah,' he said eloquently. It was not easy having so many eyes on you (even if a good majority of those eyes were painted). He had not considered that viewpoint.

'What did you experience, Harry?' Dumbledore finally asked.

Harry grimaced. A part of him was bursting to share his experience with Dumbledore (mainly because he wanted someone to help him make sense of the whole thing). The problem was that what he had seen was strange to say the least. Eventually his need to rationalise won out.

'Well, when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at me again, all I could see was bright green light. And then … nothing…'

The headmaster and the portraits of his predecessors all leaned forward as one, causing Harry to pause.

'Do you mean to say that you felt nothing?' Dumbledore asked eventually in an effort to get the boy talking again.

'Well,' Harry said with a cough. 'No, I did not. There was no pain. At first, there was blackness, but then the next thing I know, I was lying on some … surface. The first thought that went through me was that I was still alive, because I could think and feel.

'I woke up, completely naked, in a … well, a featureless nothingness. At least that's the best description I can give.' He said with a self-depreciating smile.

Albus only nodded solemnly. It seemed that the events of that night had affected his pupil strongly. Perhaps he should arrange for a healer to see the boy and help him figure the events out. Being hit with a Killing Curse just after losing a beloved family member was definitely a traumatic event. Add in the fact that Harry was fighting for his life, it was a small wonder the boy wasn't a gibbering mess yet. Albus was surprised that the boy had managed so far without needing outside help, honestly. He wasn't the only one that was surprised, either. Poppy had redone her last mental health diagnosis on Harry three times over after he had come back from the graveyard, even asking for a second opinion from St Mungo's. While the boy wasn't wholly unaffected, neither Poppy nor the specialist from the hospital had any reason to recommend counselling. Harry Potter had proved then to be quite surprisingly resilient. That still impressed Albus today.

Perhaps he should have insisted the boy go to the infirmary.

'Eventually everything started resolving itself. Oh, and clothes appeared for me to put on. Very comfortable robes too.'

'What did it resolve into?'

Harry took a deep breath.

'Kings Cross.'

There was a moment's silence. 'Kings Cross?' Dumbledore said, and Harry was sure that there was a touch of incredulity in that question.

'Yes, Kings Cross!' Harry said with uncharacteristic irritation. 'It was Kings Cross. I am really very sorry that I made it into Kings Cross. Had I known that I could control the place, I would have thought of something better. But then I would need to have gone places to fuel my imagination. Honestly, you are just as bad as them.'

'Calm down, dear boy, I was not disparaging you.' Dumbledore said in a soothing tone. 'I was merely surprised by what you said. Also, I am sorry, but what do you mean by, "them"? Who would you be talking about?'

'My parents and Sirius,' Harry said slightly sulkily not believing Dumbledore. 'They too had opinions about being in Kings Cross.'

'You spoke to your parents as well as Sirius?' Dumbledore asked curiously. It looked like he was going to have to call Poppy as soon as possible. He mentally started preparing himself for the exercise of convincing a teenager into seeking medical help without insinuating any doubts about the boy's mental health.

'Yes, only Sirius was different.' Harry said in a faraway voice. 'He was younger and healthier. As if he had never been to Azkaban.'

He paused to collect himself.

'What did you talk about?' one of the portraits asked eventually.

'Just some things in general. There was a lot of joking around, especially between my dad and Sirius.' Harry smiled wistfully. 'I can see why people thought they were thick as thieves. Fred and George are a lot like that.'

There was a pause as Dumbledore and the portraits digested what Harry said.

'Harry have you perhaps considered–?'

'- that I imagined it all?' Harry finished Dumbledore's sentence. 'Yeah I had. In fact, I asked my parents about it at the end. They said and I quote, "Of course it's all in your head! But that doesn't make it any less real."' He took a breath. 'Personally, I think that sounds like something you would say.

'But there were things that my parents said that had me coming here to speak to you now, professor. It's the reason why I am sure that it was real, considering that it is information that I never heard before in my life.'

'Indeed?'

'Yes.' Harry gathered himself. 'My mother said that you were friends with Gellert Grindelwald?'

For a moment a look of surprise stole over the headmaster's face before the ancient wizard leaned back, suddenly weary.

'Your mother was both right and wrong.' He finally said softly. 'I was friends with Grindelwald … and more. One of my few great mistakes.' A sad smile stole across his face as he looked into the distance. Harry did not know what Dumbledore meant when he said he was more than friends with Grindelwald, but felt it was too personal a question to ask.

'But that's something that happened a lifetime ago, Harry.' Dumbledore considered his pupil with his bright blue eyes. 'Are you sure you did not hear of this somewhere before? Somewhere else, perhaps?'

Harry only shook his head mutely. 'Then everything I saw and heard is real.' He whispered.

'What else did they tell you?'

'They told me something about Horcruxes.'

There was a sharp intake of breath, as Dumbledore's face suddenly went pale.

'How did you learn of this word, Harry?' He finally said in a low voice that did not hide the alarm he was feeling.

'I told you, my parents told me about it.' Harry said again. 'They said that it was the reason for Voldemort's immortality. Apparently, they house bits of his soul? Anyway, they said that all of them needed to be destroyed if we were to have any chance of ridding the world of Voldemort.'

Seeing the flabbergasted expression on Dumbledore's face was all the confirmation that Harry needed. 'I'm right, aren't I?' he breathed.

Before the aged wizard could so much as blink, green flames suddenly erupted from the fireplace in the office.

'Stand back, Harry,' Dumbledore said softly as he swept forward, wand in hand.

Not having the time to do more than look at the fireplace, the boy nodded silently as he got up and backed up to the far end of the room. He pulled his wand out, not sure if a threat was imminent. It had been a very short time since their encounter with Voldemort and his Death Eaters, so he was not suspecting an attack. However, the unprecedented level of wariness that Dumbledore was showing had Harry equally nervous. Unbidden, the image of Bellatrix's hate filled face as the Aurors whisked her away came to his mind. Surely the witch hadn't recovered so quickly after having just recently lost her arm, and surely she wasn't crazy enough to Floo directly into Hogwarts through Dumbledore's office just after escaping to get her revenge on Harry for taking it off in the first place?

His fears were shortly allayed when the figure that stepped out of the fireplace wasn't the lean one of the powerful and insane Death Eater but the portly figure of Cornelius Fudge who was carrying an almost tangible aura of desperation.

'Headmaster!' the round man exclaimed in a tone so jovial that it set Harry's teeth on edge. 'So glad to have caught you here.'

'Minister,' Dumbledore said neutrally, lowering his wand. 'I must admit that I was not expecting the pleasure of your company.' Albus did not feel the need to mention that it was partly because he was sure that he had removed outside access to the school just recently. Clearly the office of the Minister still enjoyed the privilege of unfettered access. An oversight on his part, but nothing a few flicks of his wand couldn't fix. He discreetly proceeded to do just that.

'Ah, of course,' Fudge said genially as he made himself comfortable on the chair that Harry had just vacated, somehow managing to ignore the looks of scorn and outright derision the portraits of the previous headmasters were sending his way. 'I would have sent prior notification, but the matter that I wished to discuss with you was quite urgent. It is about the war against You Know Who after all.' He drew himself up importantly as he said the last sentence.

'I see,' Dumbledore said politely as he settled behind his desk. He resigned himself to having this meeting. Fudge might be disgraced and on his way out, but he was still Minister. Besides, the man could have a good idea. After all, miracles were possible. Harry Potter certainly was proof of that. If surviving two Killing Curses wasn't a miracle, he didn't know what was.

'Perhaps we can have our discussion at a later time, Harry,' he said to his pupil. The revelations the boy had just made, while stunning and possibly of immense importance, would have to wait for another time.

Oh how Albus wished that he could have that discussion now.

At least, on the bright side, there was no need to convince the boy to go to the Hospital Wing!

'Ah, Harry! I did not see you there.' Fudge said with a laugh as genuine as leprechaun gold. 'In fact, it's a good thing you are here. I wanted your input in this matter as well.'

It was only because of his long and voluminous beard that nobody could see the tic on Albus' face at this last statement. Clearly he was out of his quota of miracles.

'I fail to see why one of my fifteen-year-old pupils would be needed in a matter of state, Cornelius,' he said blandly.

'I shall be glad to enlighten you, Albus,' Fudge said, not dropping the joviality at all. 'Please, Harry, sit.' He patted the chair next to him.

Feeling like he was going to be caught between an argument, Harry warily perched on the squashy armchair that Dumbledore conjured for him right next to his desk and opposite the eagerly smiling Minister. The placement did not escape his notice either. It was quite clear that Dumbledore considered this as an "us versus the minister" situation.

That was just fine by him. He'd be lying if he didn't feel the same way.

As soon as he was sure of their attention, the Minister started speaking. 'Well, considering the events of just two nights ago, where … you know,' Fudge trailed off, not wanting to admit that the two in front of him had been right all along.

Clearing his throat, he forged on. 'Well, anyway, so I was talking to my political advisor and we both agree that the first order of business would be to give you, Albus, your position of Chief Warlock back.'

Fudge paused, looking at Dumbledore rather expectantly. Harry thought that it was rather melodramatic of the Minister as he glanced between the two men in the silence that seemed to stretch for an eternity in the room.

Dumbledore, meanwhile was regarding Fudge with an inscrutable expression on his face, his fingers interlocked in front of him. 'I see,' the venerable wizard finally pronounced gravely.

'Indeed,' Fudge said, not having dropped his falsely bright voice. 'Secondly, and just as importantly, I have also decided to revoke all the Ministerial Decrees that were made this past year.'

'That is good news indeed,' Dumbledore said pleasantly. 'I take it that we won't be hosting your, ah, delightful undersecretary either?'

'Yes, I think Dolores would be happy to have her old job back.' Fudge replied. 'Not that teaching isn't a good job. No higher calling, and all. But I think that Dolores isn't the best person to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts at the moment.'

Fudge's smile faltered slightly upon hearing the snort of derision from Harry that was poorly disguised as a cough.

'Thirdly, I think we, as in the three of us here, should do something to ensure that public morale is kept up.'

Dumbledore politely raised his eyebrows. 'You have a plan in mind, Cornelius?'

'Naturally,' the man was all smiles now that he seemed to have a receptive audience. 'It is quite an ingenious plan, actually. And Harry here is a major part of it!'

'How?' Harry asked suspiciously.

'Well,' Fudge said with an indulgent smile that Harry had last seen directed towards him over a year back. 'I was thinking that I could arrange a couple of guided tours over at the Ministry for you. You know, to show you around the place so you can see where you want to work after you finish school. I could arrange meetings with the different heads of departments, especially Rufus Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror force. Dolores told me that you want to be an Auror. Of course you won't be able to meet all the department heads in one day, as they are all _very_ busy people. But you could find out over your summer holidays which Ministry career suits you best in case the career of an Auror does not appeal to you.' He paused to give Harry another indulgent smile. 'Then, while you are there, you could meet some members of the press and tell them what you think about how things are run, if you know what I mean.'

Harry knew exactly what the man meant. The problem was that he was currently too shocked at the outrageousness of what was being suggested to articulate a response. His first instinct was to punch the minister in the face, and he would have followed through on that if he wasn't aware of where he was and who was sitting next to him.

'I see,' he said slowly after he was sure that he had his impulses under control. 'So you want me to spend my entire summer waltzing through the Ministry and telling people how much of a good job the government is doing, am I getting that right?'

'Well,' Fudge said with that irritating smile still on his face. 'In a nutshell, yes! I think it would do the public a good turn. Give them confidence and hope. Dark times are coming, after all. We need all the hope we can get.'

It took Harry a good half a minute to get his initial impulse of shouting at the minister in response (and the second impulse of strangling the man that followed almost immediately) under control.

'Well, uh, Minister, I must say I am surprised.' Harry eventually said in what he hoped was a pleasant tone as he folded his arms to hide his clenched fists. 'For one, I certainly wasn't expecting the Ministry to have anything to do with what I have to say now or will say in the future. After all, I am an "attention-seeking deluded liar" who "thinks he is a great tragic hero" and "expects people to worship him".' He smiled aggressively. 'I do believe that's the gist of what the _Daily Prophet_ has been saying about me, what with all those snide comments being put in the papers over the past _year._ With the way they have been going one would think that they prefer that I had died with my parents.'

Fudge momentarily had the look of a penniless person who, just as he was about to bend over to pick up a shiny galleon found on the train tracks, instead, caught the Hogwarts Express right on the small of his back.

'Ah,' the minister was quick to rally, adopting a very sorrowful expression on his face. 'I deeply apologise for what the press has been saying about you, dear boy. Very unfortunate business, that. However, I would like to point out that those are the opinions of the press, Harry. Not the Ministry. This is just a simple misunderstanding –'

'A _misunderstanding_?' Harry said, his voice rising a little. 'Well, it looks like we have a different opinion on how things went down this past year. I certainly recall _Professor_ Umbridge calling me a _liar_ many times on occasion while adding prefixes like "nasty" and "horrible". I also recall her exclusively targeting me and unfairly taking both house points and privileges as well as assigning detentions for the smallest of reasons while infringing upon my personal privacy and making my life as unpleasant as possible!' By the time he was done, he was on his feet and breathing hard. 'And if I am not mistaken, she happens to be part of _your_ Ministry!'

'Harry,' Dumbledore said slowly, looking at the boy clenching and unclenching his fists. 'Take a deep breath and calm –'

'NO I WILL _NOT_ CALM DOWN!' Harry shouted. He whirled at the Minister with a pointed finger. 'NOT AFTER WHAT THIS, THIS _PERSON_ HAS DONE TO ME!'

Growling, he stalked towards the Minister. 'You send dementors after me, nearly causing me to lose my _soul_ , and then when that didn't work, you try to use the fact that I used magic to defend myself to get me expelled. And now you sit here, with the _audacity_ to ask me to support you?!' He barked out a laugh. 'Dream on!'

'Harry,' Dumbledore said calmly before the boy could continue. 'Please sit down and tell me what the problem is.'

There was a long moment where student and headmaster stared at each other. Finally, Harry grudgingly sat down, while still giving the Minister filthy looks.

'Thank you,' Dumbledore said in a measured tone. 'Now, if you would please, slowly and civilly tell me what you meant about the dementors.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'He sent the dementors after me last summer.' He said curtly while pointing at Fudge.

Albus shot the Minister a quelling glance before the man could voice a denial. 'That is a rather serious accusation to make,' he said gravely. 'How did you come to such a conclusion?'

'Umbridge told me.' Harry said, sneering at the name. 'She said that she had sent the dementors after me last summer. She openly admitted to it. Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Ron and Luna all heard her say that, so you can ask them too.' He sneered at the minister. 'Nothing like having good witnesses, eh, _Minister_?'

Fudge tried once more to defend himself, but Harry wasn't having any of it. 'Did I forget to mention that Umbridge said all that just after she had decided to use the Cruciatus Curse on me to get me to tell her about your whereabouts, Professor Dumbledore? After all, that confession about the dementors came after Hermione protested her use of an Unforgivable Curse by saying that using the curse was illegal to use on human beings.'

'What?' Fudge bleated as Dumbledore's face grew harder and the portraits behind him all gasped. 'Dolores wouldn't do something like –'

'Are you calling me a liar now, Minister?' Harry asked quickly shooting to his feet once again. 'After all this time, after being proved wrong before, you are still going to call me a liar?!'

He thrust his right fist towards the minister's face. 'Well, guess what? Thanks to your precious _undersecretary_ that isn't something I am.'

Fudge had a nice long moment to look at the marks on the back of the fist before it was encased in a pair of old hands.

Fudge watched in dread as the powerful old wizard slowly bought the back of the boy's hand up to his face to read the letters that had been carved on the flesh.

'How has this come about?' Dumbledore asked simply. The cold steel behind his words was _very_ apparent, though.

'She had me write lines using a "special quill" that she gave me.' Harry said quietly. 'It didn't need ink, you see, because it used my blood.'

The air just seemed to grow colder even though Dumbledore's expression had not changed. 'How many times?'

Harry laughed humourlessly. 'Till the message "sank in" to use her words.' He withdrew his hand from Dumbledore's grasp. 'I'm not the only one. I know for a fact that Lee Jordan from Gryffindor was subjected to the same treatment. And his crime? Giving Umbridge a bit of cheek. Something that Professor McGonagall or any other _competent_ _teacher_ who had an inkling of professionalism would have just taken some points for.'

There was a very uncomfortable pause that followed. Dumbledore slowly turned towards Fudge, an unreadable expression on his face.

'I expected you and your employees to take some liberties with regards to me and mine this past year until such a time came that Voldemort's existence was proven, Cornelius. That I was prepared for. However, I certainly did not expect you to stoop so low as to deliberately target innocent children.' Dumbledore finally said quietly, although, judging by Fudge's flinch, he might as well have been shouting them at the hapless Minister.

'I would have forgiven the _unconstitutional_ , _unprofessional_ and borderline _illegal_ attacks upon my person, the _oppressive_ actions taken against members of my staff, and the downright _thuggish_ and _cowardly_ attacks on two of my professors. But _this_.' He swept a hand towards Harry. 'This is simply unconscionable, Cornelius. Simply unconscionable.'

'N-now see here, Dumbledore, I had no –'

'I have a copy of each and every single one of your so-called "educational decrees",' Dumbledore thundered picking up a stack of parchment, clearly having lost his patience with the politician. 'All of them individually signed by you and your undersecretary. So do not presume to plead ignorance.' He plucked out one sheet. 'Here is Educational Decree Twenty-Nine, giving Argus Filch full authority to use a _horsewhip_ on the children here.' He flung the parchment towards the minister contemptuously. 'A horsewhip. Do you think of the children of your voters to be mindless beasts, Cornelius, to approve of such barbarism that even the Muggles you deride so much would disapprove of?'

Dumbledore contemptuously tossed the rest of the decrees onto his desk resulting in them all spilling forward. 'And I won't even talk about the rest of this.' He paused for a long moment, spearing Fudge with a thoroughly disappointed look. 'I shudder to think what would have happened had you been left unchecked any further. I suppose I should be thankful that Voldemort decided to show up when he did even though one innocent man lost his life and an even more innocent boy nearly lost his.'

'I – I had no idea about the content of this decree,' Fudge said desperately waving the parchment containing Educational Decree Twenty-Nine. 'I trusted – I had not read –'

'I fail to see how that is in any way my problem, Cornelius.' Dumbledore said unsympathetically as he sat back down at his desk. 'Your signature is right there, showing everyone plainly that you consented to this. You cannot hope to expect that anyone would find your excuse of not having read what you signed valid. I would say that this was surprising, but considering what you attempted on a fifteen-year-old boy last summer and what your undersecretary has done in your name a few days back to the same boy, I can hardly claim to be surprised.' He took a deep breath and leaned back. 'Regardless, as I said before, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways. We already had last year, but it is plain that there can be no reconciling.'

'Now see here –!'

Whatever the minister was about to say next died in his throat when Dumbledore leaned forward, exuding an aura of power that was nearly oppressive.

'No, you see here, Minister,' the old wizard said quietly, his face cold and hard. 'We are done. You made it clear that we were no longer going to be having a working relationship, and your actions since then have only reinforced that. And now, in light of what I have just heard, I find myself unwilling to take any steps at reconciling with you. I am also frankly disgusted with your actions this past year. You have done irreparable damage by giving a great and powerful enemy the advantage of an entire year of unmolested preparation, instead, opting to pursue fanciful notions that I harbour an ambition to replace you. You never once considered that I have never wanted your office. You have also made a mockery of the memories of all those good witches and wizards who died opposing Voldemort and his Death Eaters. And I cannot even begin to express the deep distress I feel at the perversion you have made of those educational decrees that I and many of my colleagues at Hogwarts and the Ministry have spent countless hours and days in framing and pushing through the Wizengamot in order to better and standardise education in Wizarding Britain. I won't be surprised if people start to lobby for the banishment of all the decrees, the good and the bad.'

Fudge helplessly glanced between the two. There was no sympathy in the impassive face of the old wizard. The hostility in the boy's eyes more than telegraphed the younger wizard's feelings towards him.

He tried for a final attempt at a defence. 'I assure you, Albus, I had no idea about _any_ of Dolores' actions towards Harry or any of the students here and I most certainly would _not_ have agreed to any of those measures! You have to believe me!' He said plaintively. He hoped that Dumbledore could see the sincerity in his words. He was genuinely shocked at the way Dolores had abused the liberties granted to her.

His hopes were in vain.

'It seems that there is a reversal of roles here,' Dumbledore commented. 'Now I find myself unable to believe your assertions. I would give you the benefit of doubt Cornelius, but considering your own actions and the fact that Dolores is not here to speak for herself, I find myself unable to do even that. How am I to trust your word and not dismiss it as an attempt to dump all responsibility on her?'

'Dolores!' Fudge said in desperate hope. 'We can get her here right now and question her! I am sure that in the presence of the Aurors she will be forthcoming with the truth! Where is she?' He looked around himself as if expecting her to materialise out of thin air.

'Well, I am afraid that I have no idea, Minister. I was under the assumption that she had left for the Ministry.'

'Sh-she is not here?' he stammered out.

'Well, she certainly isn't in the castle.' Dumbledore replied neutrally. 'I did go down to her office to check for myself, many minutes ago. All I found that her door wasn't a door but ajar. There were no signs of her inside her quarters. Her possessions are still there, though.' He sighed with gravitas. 'I certainly hope she comes back soon before her belongings are vandalised. She certainly hasn't made herself very popular with the school from what I have heard. It would be a shame if those lovely decorative plates of hers were to be destroyed.'

'C-can't you …?'

'I am just the headmaster and soon to be officially the Chief Warlock, Cornelius,' Dumbledore replied modestly. 'And we both know that the Chief Warlock is a ceremonial position, and as headmaster, I have limited authority outside Hogwarts. A fact that you, yourself, were more than happy to point out on many occasions over the past year as you ran roughshod over the country indulging in your delusions. I do believe that it is the Aurors who have the authority to deal with this matter. And that reminds me…' he took out his wand and made a complicated motion with it, ignoring the Minister's flinch.

'Wha-what did you do?' Fudge asked nervously.

Dumbledore stowed his wand back casually and took out parchment and quill. 'The way the Aurors have brutalised poor Professor McGonagall with their spell-happy ways has me concerned.' He said, his hand swiftly and gracefully dashing across the parchment. 'And so I have decided to change the charms on all the entrances into this school. From now on, none of the gates or doors are going to allow entrance to any Auror. I would hate for any of the innocent children under my care to be exposed to such thuggish brutality.'

'Y-you can't do that!'

'As headmaster, it is my prerogative to deny entrance to a person or persons if I have proof that their presence is detrimental to the health and well-being of my students.' Dumbledore said blandly, finishing his letter with a flourish. 'The way the Aurors have behaved has raised many concerns that I am sure the parents and the Board of Governors will not hesitate to share.' With precise motions, he replaced his gold coloured phoenix tail feather quill back in its holder.

'Of course, I am not an unreasonable man,' Dumbledore said in an appropriately reasonable tone of voice, rolling the parchment up. 'I will rescind that order as soon as I get an unreserved apology from Scrimgeour himself and an assurance that his Aurors are going to behave themselves in the future.'

The minister could only look at Dumbledore dumbfounded. 'But – but.'

'You may have left school a long time back, Cornelius, and I cannot give you detention or take points from your house anymore.' Dumbledore said. 'But that doesn't mean that I cannot still punish you. Let's see you tell the Head of the Aurors why he is going to be taking time out of his rather busy schedule to come up to Hogwarts and make an apology to me. In fact, I will also be personally writing to him to ensure this.' He waved the roll of parchment. With a flick of his wand, it had disappeared, its destination wasn't a mystery.

'Yes, well,' Fudge said with an air of defeat as he got to his feet. 'Then I shall do that.'

He strode towards the fireplace and threw a pinch of Floo Powder. Only to stop short when nothing happened.

'Oh dear,' Dumbledore said. 'It seems that my fireplace is no longer connected to the Floo Network. I must have forgotten to renew the connexion, what with being absent for so long. Thankfully the door and stairs outside are still available for usage. You will be happy to know that they are still operational.' The door of his office then opened of its own accord. 'Goodbye, minister.'

* * *

 **Well, I think that took care of a few questions that many have had.**

 **At first I had written out the whole scene with Harry in Kings' Cross, but then I realised that it was quite overdone ... that's why I decided to explore another way to reveal this encounter of his.**

 **Anyway, till next week!**


	6. Into the Forest

**A little later, but here we are!**

* * *

'So, where is Dolores, Harry?' Dumbledore commented once the Minister had made his ignoble exit.

'In the forest, sir,' Harry said reluctantly.

'Ah, any part of the forest in particular?'

'…With the centaurs.'

Dumbledore hummed. 'I suppose I will have to venture out and retrieve her.' He said musingly.

'But won't they have killed her by then?' Harry hoped he didn't sound too eager when he asked that question.

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Oh, no, Harry. Despite their grandstanding, the centaurs are a peaceful people. They won't cause her permanent harm. Regardless, for the sake of the centaurs, I will have to recover her before the Aurors show up.' Sighing, he got to his feet, followed shortly by Harry.

'Why don't you go and talk to your friends, Harry?' He said, looking down kindly at his student. 'We can meet after lunch, I think.'

'Actually, I was wondering if I could come with you, sir.'

'I see, and where have your thoughts taken you on this matter?'

'Uh … right, can I come with you to the forest?'

Dumbledore took a moment to consider the request. 'Well, you can,' he finally said. 'And if you are sure about accompanying a doddering old man on what is sure to be an unexciting trip, you _may_.'

Harry just shrugged in response.

'If that is the current teenager's sign for "yes", then after me.'

And so Harry found himself riding the moving staircase down towards the castle proper as Dumbledore hummed a tune next to him.

'I thought you said that the Aurors weren't allowed at Hogwarts, sir?' Harry asked curiously.

'Ah,' Dumbledore paused his humming to look at Harry. 'Cornelius certainly is under that assumption.'

'It's a bluff then?'

'It should make for some amount of consternation for Cornelius.' Dumbledore remarked. 'As much as I would like to bar groups of people, I can hardly enforce that. The security charms aren't that good. Although, a little myth building doesn't hurt.'

Harry shook his head, a smirk playing on his face as he thought of the prank Dumbledore played on Fudge.

'Now, I suggest caution, Harry.' Dumbledore said as they neared the forest. 'Do not speak, for they are a proud people who take offence at the slightest of things. Be as unnoticeable as possible.'

Traversing through the forest with the headmaster was a different experience for Harry. Low hanging branches seemed to move out of the old wizard's way of their own accord while his footing across the forest path was as sure as Hagrid's despite him wearing what Harry found out to be buckled boots.

It didn't take the centaurs long to find them.

'Dumbledore,' said a familiar centaur with a chestnut body and long flowing hair.

'Magorian,' Dumbledore replied pleasantly. 'It has been far too long.'

'What do you want from us now, Dumbledore?' another voice said to their left. The speaker shortly revealed himself to be Bane as he stepped out of the gloom. He cast a contemptuous look at Harry and snorted. 'Are you planning to show us off to your students?!'

'Hardly,' Dumbledore said, unruffled. 'Harry is here at my request and is not involved with what I want to discuss with you.'

'I guess that this involves the woman?' Magorian said slowly. 'If that is the case, then that boy is involved. He and his female companion did bring her into our lands, after all.'

'Yes, I remember this human,' Bane said threateningly. 'He and his companion wanted us to do their bidding! He has probably told all his friends about his exploits.'

'The woman, as you call her, had coerced Mr Potter here and his friend into entering the forest.' Dumbledore said quietly before Harry could even think of opening his mouth. 'I think you know very well where they were headed when you intercepted them.'

'They were headed towards the Acromantula colony,' Magorian said thoughtfully. There was a very long moment of silence as the two centaurs considered this. 'Very well, the foals were probably innocent.'

It seemed to pain the centaurs a great deal in making such an admission, judging by the way Magorian was agitatedly stamping the ground with his front hoof.

'Regardless, I am sure Harry is very sorry for any slights he and his friends have committed.' Dumbledore said diplomatically giving Harry a meaningful look.

At this, Harry nodded vigorously and apologised as contritely as he could manage.

The centaurs seemed appeased. 'I suppose he is still a foal,' Magorian said finally. 'They are bound to make mistakes.'

'Indeed,' Dumbledore said gravely. 'The young frequently make many mistakes as they grow. It is our duty to guide them.'

Magorian snorted. 'Very well, was this all?' he asked.

'Well, there is the matter of the woman you have in your custody –'

Bane reared on his hind legs. 'What about that woman?!' he snarled heatedly. 'We are not going to let her go just upon your say-so! Especially not after what she said and did to us!'

'Indeed, Dumbledore,' Magorian said a lot more calmly. 'She is not as innocent as your young. And there is no reason for us to do anything for you humans, even if you are one of the more tolerable ones.'

'I am not asking you to do anything,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'I merely would like to discuss the situation.'

'How so?' Magorian asked suspiciously.

'Well, the woman does work for the ministry,' Dumbledore began.

'And what does that have to do with us?' Bane interjected aggressively. 'We do not recognise your government!'

'I was never suggesting anything like that,' the headmaster replied evenly. 'I am merely noting that the ministry is currently searching for her. They haven't started anything yet, but soon enough a team of Aurors will be coming here. It will be only a matter of time before they come to you, and then suspect you of holding their employee. I cannot predict how they will react should they find out about her fate or your involvement in it.'

He let them process that information for a few moments. 'While I am sure that the centaurs are capable of holding their own against the humans, especially in this forest, surely keeping that woman isn't worth the trouble?'

'You won't find us, human,' Bane said arrogantly. 'Even Hagrid has no idea where we live!'

'Would that be a few kilometres after the hollowed-out stump of the rowan tree in the northeast part of the forest near the mountains?' Dumbledore asked politely, stunning the centaurs into silence. 'I have known about that place for the past twenty years or so.' He smiled benignly. 'It took me some time to come in possession of that knowledge, but in my defence, I wasn't looking. I wonder how long it will take a team of determined wizards and witches to find your dwelling…'

'I shall consult the herd,' Magorian finally said curtly. 'Wait with the humans, Bane.' Saying so, he galloped off.

No sooner had the sound of the centaur's hooves faded away, Dumbledore flicked his wand and conjured up two comfortable looking chintz armchairs.

'We might as well be comfortable while we wait, Harry,' he said as he settled into one of the chairs.

Harry watched as Bane stalked away with a sulky expression on his face. As soon as he was sure that the centaur was out of earshot, he leaned towards his headmaster and whispered. 'Why are we bothering to bring her back? Surely, she deserves whatever the centaurs decide to do with her!'

Dumbledore flicked his wand imperceptibly to mute the conversation before replying. 'True, but the centaurs would not deserve the hassle of tangling with the Ministry of Magic over Dolores Umbridge. Unfortunately keeping her with them will do them more harm than it will her.'

There was a long minute of silence that was broken by the headmaster.

'Why didn't you come forth earlier about what Dolores was doing in your detentions with her, Harry?' he asked softly.

'Well,' Harry said after an awkward pause. 'I doubt it would have made much of a difference. She was already starting to do things to give her more power over all of us. What would have been the point of complaining? She would have found some way to get back at me and made your lives miserable as well. Hermione told me to go to McGonagall, but I thought – no, I _knew_ that Umbridge would find a way to wiggle out of it and then make her life hell.'

Dumbledore looked at Harry over his glasses. 'You were trying to protect us?' he asked slightly incredulously.

'And what if I was?' Harry said slightly defensively.

'Well, I am touched,' the headmaster replied. 'Although,' he said a tad more sombrely. 'It should be us trying to protect you.' He sighed. 'It is something that I fear that we have failed to do adequately in the past, but we are trying our best. I ask that in the future, you at least give us the opportunity to carry out this duty. However, I realise that you are at an age where independence is prized. So, I ask that you try and not hamper us. The current climate is too dangerous for us to indulge in such luxuries.'

Harry considered what he had just been told. His first instinct was to scoff. After all, when had running to an adult ever helped in the past? But then, when he really thought about it, he could appreciate where Dumbledore was coming from. He hadn't really gone to seek help in the past from either professor McGonagall or Dumbledore. Well, there was first year, but in hindsight, he could have been a little clearer. After all, while he had wrongly suspected Snape, and did not have proof of the greasy git's involvement, he had known at the time that Voldemort was after the Stone in some fashion. That at least would have had the old witch believing him.

And, quite frankly, he still didn't know what he was thinking at the time when he went to Lockhart of all people for help with the Chamber of Secrets.

'Okay,' he finally said. 'But I doubt you will be able to help all the time.'

'A fair assessment,' Dumbledore said with a nod. 'Regardless, I would appreciate being given a chance.'

'Good,' Harry replied. 'Then can you help me become stronger?'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Well, it is about time, Harry!' he said approvingly. 'I do not mind helping you "become stronger" as you put it. I am sure professors Flitwick and McGonagall will be more than willing to help as well. Although, between you and me, I was kind of expecting such a request much earlier.'

'Why didn't you train me from the beginning anyway, sir?' Harry asked, feeling slightly annoyed. 'After all, you have known of the prophecy for so long.'

'"From the beginning"? My dear boy, you are currently a student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is one of the best schools in Europe if not the world.' Dumbledore replied. 'We might not be as good as some other schools in areas like Divination and Ancient Runes, but there are few that can match us in Charms, Transfiguration, and, despite our rather poor record of keeping a teacher, Defence Against the Dark Arts.' He paused for a moment. 'We are outclassed by Castelobruxo when it comes to Potions and Herbology, but that's mainly because they are located in the amazon rainforest. Our greenhouses can do only so much.'

Harry rolled his eyes, an act not missed by his headmaster. 'Professor Snape does get results consistent with an effective instructor who knows his subject, despite his … personality.'

Dumbledore leaned back into his chair. 'Getting back to the original subject. You are in the best school the wizarding world has to offer. Putting aside our various Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, we have some of the finest individuals on staff. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick are both quite good in their fields. Either one of them would have been more than happy in giving a promising student some extra help. A good grounding in Charms and Transfiguration carries over quite well in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Not that you need much instruction in that subject considering what I know of your talents.' He regarded Harry over his glasses. 'I think you have been taught quite adequately from the beginning, don't you? Some might say that it could be earlier, but over the millennium of this school's existence, the general consensus is that eleven is the best age to begin teaching a child magic. It simply isn't feasible enough to do it earlier. Younger children aren't capable of keeping up with the stress of a formal education, and they also cannot understand the complex theorems of magic.'

'Then why not start preparing me when I reach the school?'

Dumbledore looked at Harry pointedly. 'Neither I nor any one of the teachers here can force you to learn something, Harry. So far we have found you to be adequately challenged in the regular course. Why should we move you to more advanced material then? You have the talent, but lack the drive. Your friend, Miss Granger, has the opposite problem, she does not have the same talent as you. But she compensates by her drive and natural intelligence.'

'What about the prophecy then?' Harry said sullenly.

'What about it?'

Hearing the glib response, Harry sputtered. 'I'm supposed to kill Voldemort!' he finally said. 'The prophecy said so!'

'No, it does not.' Dumbledore said matter-of-factly. 'The prophecy only states that you _can_ kill Voldemort. It doesn't say that you _should_ or that you have to _._ '

'But –'

'The prophecy is quite vague in its wording,' Dumbledore said over Harry's protestations. 'It states that either you or Voldemort will kill the other. There isn't anything definitive there. I might as well be giving you a prediction that tomorrow might be cloudy or sunny and calling it a prophecy. You have complete freedom to ignore the prophecy, Harry. If you so desired it, you could run off to another country under a different name and personality. I would help. But that won't break the prophecy. Can you tell me why?'

'Because he'll want me finished,' Harry said quietly. 'He's afraid of me. That I survived two Killing Curses cast by his own hand will be beyond frightening for him. He will want me dead, and he will want to do it himself.'

'Exactly,' Dumbledore said approvingly. 'So if you did try to divorce yourself from all of this and run to another part of the world with a new identity, a confrontation between the two of you will be inevitable because Voldemort will be obsessed with finding and ending you. And so, it will result in one of you dying at the hand of the other, as the prophecy states.' Stroking his beard, he continued thoughtfully. 'Such a course of action might be beneficial. Should you go underground, he might be distracted enough to pause his bid for power and focus solely on you.'

'No,' Harry said confidently. 'It wouldn't. All he would do in such a case would be to build strength. He'll go after the next biggest threat, that's you, sir, even more so after the good drubbing you gave him at the Ministry a few days back. Then he will take over the country, and when he has enough legitimacy, he will start looking for me. That is when I will be in … well, dire straits.'

'You seem quite certain of your theory,' Dumbledore said mildly, although he did have a look of curiosity in his eyes.

'I am,' Harry said confidently. 'Besides,' he took a deep breath, coming to an epiphany. 'I don't think I could go "underground", as you put it. No, I would want to see Voldemort finished as well.' He stared at nothing as he thought further about what he just realised. 'I think I've wanted this since my first year when I went down to stop him from getting the Stone.'

'So it truly is "neither can live while the other survives",' Dumbledore said sombrely. 'The first thing we should do after finishing this task is finish the meeting that was interrupted. I, myself, have some important news to share with you, Harry.'

'Uh, alright then,' Harry was very curious and slightly apprehensive about this "news". He hoped that it wasn't bad.

'Getting back to our original topic,' said Dumbledore. 'Since you have expressed enthusiasm for it, I can certainly organise some extra lessons with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick for your sixth year. In addition, I could teach you a few things.'

'Why not during the summer holidays?'

'You certainly are keen.' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'However, that might be slightly difficult. Having said that, I find the idea has merit. I shall see what I can do. In the meantime, I ask that you take up some initiative on your own. To start with, have you been keeping up with your Quidditch physical training?'

'Well…,' Harry said reluctantly. 'Not really.'

'See that you do. It always helps to have an athletic body. You are already a strapping young lad, so it shouldn't be too much of an imposition on you. You can also try and revise your textbooks, and if possible, buy the books for the coming year. I shall give you that list once we reach my office. Aside from the Defence Against the Dark Arts book, it is fairly the same.'

'And I have enough books in that subject thanks to the various birthday and Christmas gifts that I've been given.'

The sudden sound of hooves halted any further conversation.

Magorian burst out into the clearing, followed by two other centaurs who had with them a very dishevelled Umbridge and two openly disgusted expressions.

'The woman,' Magorian said as his two companions unceremoniously dumped the pink-clad employee of the Ministry on the ground.

'I see you have made your decision,' Dumbledore remarked, as he and Harry stood up.

'Ensure that we see no more humans in our abode, Dumbledore,' Magorian said curtly. 'Ronan won't be able to save you all.'

Without a word the centaurs all galloped away.

Dumbledore bent over Umbridge's unmoving form. 'Dolores?' he said, giving her a slight shake.

Harry leaned over to look at the loathsome woman. Aside from a few scratches and a bit of dirt, Umbidge seemed to be fine. Her eyes, though, were open and staring blankly into the distance.

'Hmm, no reaction upon seeing me or you,' Dumbledore said musingly. 'Not even a sneer. She clearly is catatonic. It would be best to ensure that she is asleep before we get her to the hospital wing.' With a wave of his wand, Umbridge slumped unconscious, her head lolling to the side.

Harry flicked his wand at the woman and muttered 'Mobilicorpus.' Turning around, he followed his headmaster back through the forest.

Dumbledore did not seem to notice if Harry was unusually clumsy with guiding Umbridge through the woods, and if he noticed that she had accumulated a few new bruises and scratches when they entered the grounds of the school, he did not comment on it.


	7. Meeting Concluded

'So I gather that the prophecy orb in the Department of Mysteries was kept under guard just to mess with Voldemort?'

Dumbledore looked at Harry with a mix of surprise and approval as he eased himself into his office chair. 'I wouldn't put it that way,' he said. 'But yes, the guard duty was put in place mainly to frustrate him and his followers. I had the feeling that it would have kept him far too busy to be doing much of anything else. I am glad that I was right to an extent. Besides,' he winked. 'I have been the headmaster of a school for so long now that I cannot fathom giving information away for free!'

'That was a terrible joke, sir,' Harry said blandly.

'Now, about the discussion we were having this morning…'

'Right,' Harry scratched his head. 'I was telling you what I saw after that Killing Curse hit me.'

'Yes, you had arrived at what turned out to be King's Cross and met your dearly departed parents and recently, but no less dearly, departed godfather.' Dumbledore replied.

'Ah, yes,' Harry paused. 'Did I tell you about the baby that I saw then?'

'I do not believe you had.'

'Right. Well, the first thing, erm, person I saw was this very ugly looking baby before I met my parents and Sirius. It was scaly, with red eyes, and was bawling quite pathetically.'

'I see,' Dumbledore said mainly to keep the story moving on.

'So, in short order, I was sitting at a table talking to my parents and, funnily enough, eating a steak made by my mother.'

'Fascinating,' the portrait of Phineas Nigellus said snidely. 'Now, how about you get around to talking about those Horcruxes, boy.'

'Patience, Phineas,' Dumbledore said mildly. 'Let Harry tell the story in his own pace. There is no need to rush such matters.'

'Right, well, they said that Voldemort was immortal because he had split his soul and made a Horcrux, possibly many more.' Harry said, trying to regain his momentum. 'Apparently, Sirius' younger brother, Regulus, had found out about it through Kreacher and had died in the attempt to steal it from some cave. It should be still in Grimmauld Place. That is if Kreacher hasn't destroyed it yet.'

There was a short moment where Dumbledore had a look of frank astonishment on his face before he rallied. 'Well,' he said quickly. 'We must make haste to secure the object in question, for I am not too sure if Sirius' death has affected the Fidelius Charm. For all we know, the property could have passed onto the next member of the Black family which would be Narcissa Malfoy.'

'Yeah, Sirius told me that he ensured that the house is going to pass onto me. The will is in his bedroom.' Harry said helpfully. 'I even get the elf,' he muttered darkly to himself.

Clearing his throat, he called for the aforementioned house-elf. Kreacher appeared in short order, throwing a very noisy tantrum that had Harry clapping his hands over his ears.

'Will you shut up?!' Harry barked. Glaring at the elf who was (now silently) returning the favour, Harry said quietly. 'You are now mine, whether you like it or not. I order you to return to Number 12 Grimmauld Place and stay there. I also order you to take all the movable objects in there and put them in a room which you will then guard against anyone else except for me and the headmaster till I return. Do you understand?'

Harry watched as the elf processed the orders it was given. A scowl told him that he had all loopholes covered so far.

'Good, now go do what I told you.'

'Any other revelations, Harry?' Dumbledore remarked mildly after the elf disappeared. 'I certainly am hoping for an exact number of Horcruxes, their identities and locations. As it is, I only recently considered that he may have used Horcruxes as a means to achieve his immortality.'

Harry blinked. 'I was under the impression that he had made only one,' he said slowly. 'That is what my parents told me.'

Dumbledore did not immediately reply. 'Clearly, the dead do not know everything that goes on in the realm of the living.' He finally said. 'I wonder how this works out?' he asked contemplatively. 'Regardless, we can figure that number out.' He smiled encouragingly at Harry. 'We have one, and you destroyed another in your second year.'

'The diary was a Horcrux?' Harry commented. 'Huh… anyway, getting back to the topic, remember that baby I was talking about before I met my parents?'

'Vividly.'

'Well … turns out that was the piece of Voldemort's soul that was residing in my scar. So I guess we know of three Horcruxes of Voldemort's.'

Dumbledore took a deep breath and leaned back.

'I must confess, the thought of you as a Horcrux was one that I found frightening, and something I really did not want to consider. But given the nature of the connexion you were sharing with Voldemort this past few months, it was something that I was being forced to consider as reality.' He waved his wand, revealing a small bookshelf behind him. 'In the past three years from the end of your second year till now, I have only managed to accumulate one book on the subject.' He waved a hand at the solitary tome sitting there. 'It hasn't been terribly informative on living Horcruxes, or on how to safely destroy one without irreparably damaging them.'

'Just one book?' Harry couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice as he said that.

'Horcruxes are a rather obscure subject, Harry. Splitting one's soul is not something regular Dark Arts practitioners would consider. I am fortunate to have found so much knowledge in such little time. Also,' he added, 'This book is courtesy of the Hogwarts Library. I had removed it decades ago.'

'But you said that you found out that Voldemort had used Horcruxes recently.' Harry pointed out.

'I only removed the book from the library decades ago, and it was my first act as headmaster because it was quite revolting, containing knowledge that is best left forgotten.' Dumbledore replied. 'That doesn't mean that I read it till much later or that I considered that Voldemort would have come across the same book before I had or that he would have tried following the instructions within. In fact, I attempted to forget all about it till recently.' He flicked his wand again, hiding the bookshelf from sight. 'Creating a Horcrux isn't advisable by the author of that book either. It makes your soul very unstable. Naturally I did not think Tom Riddle would be bereft of caution to ignore this warning, let alone do that repeatedly.'

'Ah. Well, you don't have to worry about the piece of soul in my scar anyway,' Harry replied.

'It has been taken care of then? That is good news!'

'… I suppose.'

Dumbledore considered his student inquisitively. 'You seem to be having some reservations about that.'

Harry looked distinctly ill. 'Remember how I mentioned that I was sitting with my parents at a table and eating a steak?'

'Prepared by your mother if I recall correctly.'

'Yes … well, where do you think she got the meat from?'

There was a very long pause as Dumbledore processed that information. Some of the portraits behind him had looks of open revulsion on their faces.

'Well, this certainly puts that vomit flavoured bean I encountered in my youth into perspective,' the headmaster finally said.

* * *

 **Till next week!**

 **That's when you will find out the first of two popular fan fiction themes this story is going to be centred around!**


	8. A Shocking Revelation

**I will be busy tomorrow and so thought that it would be better to upload the chapter earlier instead of later...**

* * *

Harry looked around at the kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, contemplating the past few hours.

The day so far had been eventful, but not as eventful as what had happened to him two nights back at the Department of Mysteries.

He was happy that he had the chance to meet Sirius one final time after losing him. However, he had mixed feelings about meeting his parents. While he would cherish the one-of-a-kind opportunity to meet his deceased parents properly, he really did not know what to think about his parents feeding him a piece of Voldemort's soul and only revealing that fact to him right at the end after he had gaily devoured it. Sure, they had given some guff about how it was all metaphorical, but it was the principle of the thing!

Suffice to say, he was off pork for the moment.

Dumbledore did speculate about the ramifications of Harry consuming a piece of soul, but Harry wasn't too worried. As he told the headmaster, his mother had apparently "cleaned" the meat of all the "bad parts" before … feeding it to him.

On second thoughts, he was off pork indefinitely. Possibly for the rest of his life.

Regardless, he had not felt different nor had he noticed anything different after that encounter.

He still could speak Parseltongue. Although, he wasn't sure if that was an inherited gift or something that Voldemort had bestowed upon him.

But the day wasn't over yet. Dumbledore mentioned (quite ominously in Harry's opinion) that there was some news he had to share with Harry.

He had not seen fit to tell Harry exactly what it was, other than that it was a recent discovery somehow involving Harry. It also was something that involved the Order as well.

And so, Harry was whisked off to Grimmauld Place where the first thing they did upon arriving was securing the Locket that Regulus Black had stolen from Voldemort. Kreacher had tried to resist initially, but when the elf found out that they intended on destroying it, he changed his tune entirely.

In fact, Kreacher seemed to have become an entirely different person as he flitted around the house cleaning at a very invigorated pace. Harry wagered that the elf was on the way to surpassing their combined efforts over the summer.

And it wasn't even time for the meeting yet.

'Harry, dear!'

The sound of Mrs Weasley's voice bought Harry out of his reverie. 'Mrs Weasley,' he said standing up.

Ron's mother enveloped him in a hug. 'Look how tall you've grown,' she said looking up at him. 'You are as bad as Ron. Why, I think you'll be surpassing him soon!'

'I doubt that, Mrs Weasley,' Harry said with a smile.

'How are you doing, dear,' Mrs Weasley said, ushering him back down on his seat and sitting across him. She held his hand sympathetically.

'I am fine,' Harry said sincerely.

'Are you sure, dear?' Mrs Weasley said, looking at him searchingly.

'I mean … I – I miss him and everything, but I doubt he'd have wanted me to mope around missing him too much.'

She smiled sadly at him, reminding Harry that she herself had lost family in the first war. 'That is a lovely sentiment, dear.' She then bustled over to the kitchen countertop, waving her wand at the various utensils. 'So what brings you here, Harry?'

Harry pretended not to hear the tremor in her voice as he answered as steadily as he could. 'Well, this house now belongs to me, so professor Dumbledore wanted to ensure that there weren't any enchantments that would get in the way of me inheriting it. Also, he said he had some business concerning me.'

Mrs Weasley hummed noncommittally. 'And how is that son of mine doing? He barely writes anymore…'

'Ron woke up this afternoon. Madam Pomfrey says he should be out in a few days.' Harry paused, not knowing how to say what he felt.

Mrs Weasley, however, seemed to have an idea about what he was thinking. 'That was a series of very unfortunate events. We all did our best. Blame really can't be laid squarely upon anyone. Well, except You-Know-Who and his followers.' She put a plate of sandwiches in front of Harry and smiled at him kindly. 'While I wish you kids had made better choices, I know that reality rarely adheres to a mother's wishes. All I can do is be grateful that all of you are safe, Harry. Even though you … well…'

Their moment was interrupted by the kitchen door opening and Order members piling in. Mr Weasley and Bill entered together, exchanging greetings with Harry.

'Goodness, is it time for the meeting?' Mrs Weasley said, flustered. 'I think you should go now, Harry.'

'Actually, Molly,' Kingsley said from the doorway. 'Albus has informed me that Harry's presence is required for this meeting.'

Mrs Weasley looked a little surprised, but eventually shrugged and sat down next to her husband.

'Hey, Harry!' Fred said as he and George entered the room and sat down opposite Mr Weasley. 'Are you a part of the Order now?' his twin asked curiously.

'Not as far as I know,' Harry said with a smile. 'Congratulations on joining, by the way. How's the shop coming along?'

'Thank you,' George said with a grin. 'Now that we are of age and out of school, we found that we could volunteer.' He and his twin shot their mother a victorious grin which was thoroughly ignored by Mrs Weasley. 'And the shop is doing fantastically. We just opened our doors yesterday!'

'We already made a killing in our mail order sales.' Fred said.

Mrs Weasley just shook her head at the two. She had a type of expression on her face that suggested that she really wanted to have some words over her twin sons' career choices, but was uncertain as to what those words would be and with whom.

Just then Dumbledore entered the room followed by Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. Moody then stumped in and closed the door behind him.

The headmaster went around the table till he was standing next to Harry, while the other three remained where they were

'Thank you all for coming on short notice,' Dumbledore said to the now silent room. 'As many of you are aware, the ministry was forced to confront the truth of Lord Voldemort's return. Naturally, this has led to a lot of upheaval. Especially at the Ministry.'

His comments were answered with a few snorts and a muttered, 'Serves Fudge right.'

'A lot of rumours and speculation has followed this recent turn of events, most of which are centred around our young guest for the evening,' Dumbledore then laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, bringing the attention of the collective onto the teen.

'However, Alastor, Miss Tonks and Remus made a discovery that night in the Department of Mysteries of which the public, at the moment, are unaware.'

There was a ripple in the crowd as heads turned to the opposite direction towards the three individuals.

While Moody's face was as readable as a fossilised tree, it was Remus' and Tonks' expressions that were concerning to Harry. He noticed that they were all glancing at him with unsettled expressions.

Harry had a very bad feeling about this.

'Miss Tonks, as the person to first make this discovery, perhaps you should explain the whole thing.'

'Uh, yeah,' the young Auror cleared her throat. 'Well, after the battle, Moody suggested that it would be a good idea to secure the premises. So, we left Remus and Kingsley to guard the captured Death Eaters while the rest of us canvassed the area.'

'And that was such a brilliant decision,' Moody growled sardonically.

'Anyway,' Tonks said in a louder voice ignoring Remus rolling his eyes. 'Moody and I were walking down this maze of passages when we came across a locked room that Moody couldn't see through.'

'And we all know just how much Moody loves things he cannot see through,' Remus muttered.

'Oh will you two stop it!' Tonks snapped. 'I'm trying to impart important information here!'

'Who's stopping you?' Moody said casually.

'Oh – you know what? Remus just get the kid in here.'

'Are you telling me that you found a child locked away in the Department of Mysteries?' Kingsley said slowly. 'Why wasn't I told about this when we were there?'

'Well, when we opened the door, we found what looked like a large expanded … living space. And, yes, living there was a boy who I am pretty sure is no older than four.'

Her statement was met with gasps of surprise.

'Why would they lock up a little boy up inside the Department?' Mrs Weasley asked in a hushed voice.

Tonks seemed uncomfortable with the question. 'Well…' she began, her eyes shifting towards Harry. 'I don't really know how to say this.'

Just then the door opened and Remus came in, ushering in a little boy.

There was shocked silence as everyone stared at the newcomer.

'Wh – why does he look like me?'

Harry felt his question was warranted. The boy had the same thin face, the same wild messy black hair and the same colour green eyes as he did. The only noticeable difference, aside from the obvious variance in age, was that there was no scar on his forehead or glasses on his face. Although, Harry doubted that he had ever worn glasses at that age.

At least it explained why Lupin and Tonks were looking at him like that.

* * *

 **And so the first oft-seen concept in Harry Potter fanfiction** ** **I was talking about in the previous chapter**... albeit with some modifications. The Harry-is-a-teenage-father concept.**

 **I will be going on a short trip the next week, so I don't think I will be able to upload the next chapter by next Friday (seeing as I prefer not to take my laptop with me on holidays when I can avoid it). But worry not, I will upload the next chapter this Saturday instead!**


	9. Harry's Decision

Time seemed to stretch into infinity as everyone processed that there was another younger version of Harry Potter standing there. The three-year-old in question was looking anywhere but up, quietly stepping well behind Lupin in an attempt to hide from the scrutiny.

'How is this possible?' Mrs Weasley exclaimed.

'Well, mum, I think it is obvious how this is possible,' Fred quipped.

'What?!' Mrs Weasley said dazedly.

'You see, mum,' George said in an explaining-things-to-children voice. 'When a boy likes a girl –'

'I wasn't wondering about that you nitwits!' Mrs Weasley snapped. 'Think about it! Harry would have to be twelve at the most when that boy was born. He would have been far too young for …' she looked around herself awkwardly before spitting out, ' _that_!'

'Mother!' Fred admonished. 'You should know by now that George and I are not nitwits! We are halfwits.'

'And between the two of us, we make a wit!' George added cheekily, generating quite a few reluctant chuckles.

'Anyway,' Fred said, backpedalling quickly when Mrs Weasley fairly growled at them. 'I think it is quite evident that Harry here has some … hidden depths.' He looked at Harry an irritating grin on his face. 'Harry, you sly dog! How did you do it?'

'Looks like someone was cashing in on his Boy-Who-Lived fame,' George said with an identical grin.

'What?' Harry sputtered, finally finding his voice. 'No! I haven't been …' he gestured wildly. 'Especially not at eleven! I am still a virgin, thank you very much.' He scowled at the chuckling twins. 'Oh, go boil your heads!'

'As enjoyable as I am finding this speculation,' Dumbledore said in a raised voice. 'I am afraid I am going to have to lay any further theories to rest with the facts that I have gleaned from the responsible parties.'

The old man sighed. 'I summoned Croaker from the Department of Mysteries to my office yesterday, the very morning after I was made aware of the … discovery. It took a fair amount of convincing for me to get to the bottom of this.' He paused for a moment. Harry had never seen the man looked so disturbed as he weighed his next words.

'Harry, I think you remember the events that preceded the culmination of your first year at Hogwarts?'

Harry slowly nodded.

'What I, myself, did not know at the time was that one of my seventh year students had already been recruited by the Department of Mysteries. Now this individual – I am yet to learn his identity – has been reporting to his future employers for quite a while. Thanks to this individual's efforts, the Department was the first branch of the Ministry to know of Voldemort's continued existence.'

'And they didn't see it fit to mention this to Fudge earlier?' Bill asked incredulously.

'Evidently not. Although, to be fair, the actionable proof was rather slim at best. Voldemort had not left any indication that he was inhabiting Quirrel's body.' Dumbledore said succinctly. 'Back to the topic at hand. There was a small group within the Department of Mysteries who had heard of the prophecy connecting you, Harry, and Lord Voldemort. While they did not know the wording, they did know that you and Voldemort were linked and so were of the opinion that you would be the end of him.' Dumbledore rubbed his forehead. 'This group, in their infinite wisdom, decided that the fate of the world couldn't rest on one child. And so they decided to create another version of Harry Potter exactly like the original should the, ah, original die. To achieve their end, they took some of your blood while you were unconscious and recuperating from your encounter with Voldemort. They even ensured that the clone was born on the same date and time.'

'And what did they plan on doing with this … version of me?' Harry asked faintly.

'Well, their idea was to train the child up from an early age into some sort of soldier. I also have been lead to understand that they have made a few … tweaks in the process in order to ensure that this version is more powerful, but the details of how they achieved that are sketchy at best.'

Mrs Weasley gasped at Dumbledore's rather frank statement. The appalled look on her face saying a lot.

'That explains the lack of toys or anything fun in his room,' Lupin said darkly.

'I got them to describe their regimen in detail,' Dumbledore said sadly. 'It is a good thing we got to him when we did. I just cannot think about what they had planned for him after his fourth birthday.' He sat down, looking world-weary.

There was a very long silence as people all contemplated what had been told.

'Well, at least we got him on time,' Bill finally said. 'Let's move on from here now. What do we do?'

'Well,' Mrs Weasley was the first to jump in. 'It is obvious that the poor boy will need to be taken care of.' She turned to the child. 'What is your name, little one?' she asked in a gentle tone.

Instead of replying, the moppet just shrank back, attempting to disappear entirely in Remus' shadow.

Remus turned to get the boy out, but no sooner had he turned around, the boy just took ten steps back, warily studying the older man.

Remus sighed. 'He's been like this ever since we first saw him. Won't utter a word, won't look at anyone in the eye and if anyone were to approach him, he acts as if we are about to kill him.'

Dumbledore frowned. 'That is unusual. I will have to talk to the Unspeakables about this.' He said thoughtfully.

'Regardless, Croaker was kind enough to supply me with his name.' He took a deep breath. 'In order to ensure that the clone is as close to the original version, they have not only ensured that he was born on the 31st of July at the exact same time as Harry here, but they have also given him the same name.'

'So his name is Harry Potter too?' Fred asked incredulously,

'Well, yes,' Dumbledore replied. 'His full name is Harry James Potter.'

'So who's going to take care of the little dear?' Mrs Weasley interjected briskly bringing the topic back to important matters. She looked at Mr Weasley and continued. 'I would like to volunteer our home if that is OK with Arthur. After all, most of our sons have grown and found jobs,' she couldn't help but glance at Fred and George as she said the next bit, 'And are now well settled. Our finances shouldn't be as strained as they were before.'

'It might be a bit too dangerous, Molly,' Professor Dumbledore said. 'The moment Voldemort finds out that there are two Harry Potters around, he will go after the easier target which would be the younger version. He can't touch the original one as he full well knows. Not that he would be willing, at the moment, especially after the sound thrashing Harry has given him.' He winked at Harry, causing the boy to blush.

This was the start of a long argument as to who should be suitable guardians.

Remus Lupin wanted to be taking care of the boy because, according to him, he was the only adult the boy trusted. Moody had been quite helpful in pointing out what happened a few moments back when the werewolf had turned to the boy as a rebuttal.

Tonks, surprisingly enough, was the next person offering to take the boy in. Harry inwardly wondered if the woman was capable of taking care of _herself_ first.

Bill shared the same opinion. 'Tonks, I think it is quite obvious that you have difficulty in taking care of yourself.' He said wryly. 'Besides, how is a single Auror going to take care of one kid in the middle of a war? I doubt you will be seeing much of the inside of your flat for any length of time.'

Running a hand through his hair, he then volunteered. 'I have recently purchased a nondescript cottage in the countryside that I have filled with a variety of obscure security charms, jinxes and curse. He should be safe with us.'

'"Us"?' Mrs Weasley asked pointedly, proving how sharp and perceptive she was when it came to her children. 'And when did you get a cottage in the countryside, Bill?'

'Uh,' was the eloquent response of her eldest son who had the look of someone who was caught doing something he shouldn't have done in the first place.

'Oooo, Bill has a new house!' Fred crowed with delight, showing the amount of sympathy typical of a younger sibling in this situation, which is to say, none. 'By the countryside, no less,' said George, sporting an evil grin.

'George, I wonder why Bill is being so secretive about it?' Fred asked thoughtfully, turning to his twin.

'Yes, it seems as if he is trying to hide something from mum,' George replied in an equally thoughtful voice.

Bill, meanwhile, had his head in his hands. 'Fine,' he groaned. 'I was going to tell you two later,' he said to his parents. 'But I just got the deed earlier today.'

'And who are you going to be living with?' Mrs Weasley asked in a would-be casual voice.

'My fiancé.' Bill's embarrassment made his reply a tad reluctant.

'Bill that is wonderful,' Mrs Weasley squealed, as everyone around her made sounds of happiness for him. 'When did this happen? And what is her name?' Then her voice turned a little accusatory. 'And why haven't you told us about this earlier?'

'Well, I only asked her yesterday.' Bill admitted with a sheepish look. 'Her name is Fleur Delacour. I think you'd remember her. She was the Beauxbatons champion in the Triwizard Tournament.'

Mrs Weasley's smile became fixed. 'Ah,' was all she said. 'Wasn't she the young lady who was also taking classes with you earlier this year?'

Bill turned even redder. 'Yes,' he said apprehensively.

'Ah.' Was all his mother said in response.

'Getting back to the matter at hand,' Lupin said loudly.

'Yes,' Fred cut the werewolf off. 'I say George and I take care of little Harry here. We would be the best people to do it!'

Everyone looked at the twins incredulously. 'Why would you say that, boys?' Mr Weasley asked, sounding as if he dreaded the answer.

'Well, someone has to pass on the legacy of the Marauders and keep the tradition of pranking alive in Hogwarts.' George said pompously.

Harry was careful to avoid eye contact. He did notice, though, that aside from Lupin, nobody recognised that name. And Lupin too was trying not to look too shifty.

'I do not know who those "Marauders" are,' Mrs Weasley said tartly. 'But I suggest that you stop your joking. This is a serious matter. This has got to be the most ridiculous idea I have ever heard today.'

Her statement was met with general consensus.

The debate raged on. A large part of Harry was happy that there were so many people who were willing to take care of, well, a version of him, but a small part couldn't help but be jealous and slightly resentful. This kid was going to get someone good to take care of him, while he, the original Harry was going to be shipped back to hateful Muggles who he was forced to acknowledge as family.

He started when he felt a small hand on his arm. Turning, he found himself looking into bright green eyes much like his own.

'Hey there,' Harry said softly. He glanced back at the front where Lupin was still passionately arguing about being the person to raise the child. Harry wondered at that. Was his father's friend feeling guilty for not taking care of him the first time around? From what he could gather so far, there were no laws forbidding a werewolf from reproducing or adopting a child. Apparently nobody had thought that to be a possibility. If that was the case, then what the hell was preventing the man from taking Harry in, in the first place? Living with him would certainly have been better than living with his aunt and uncle.

'Hi.'

Harry was surprised. He wondered if he was the first person the kid had voluntarily spoken to. He certainly was the first person in the room who the boy was looking in the eye. Hesitantly, he extended his hand. 'My name is Harry, what's yours?' Internally he cringed. It was a patently stupid question.

Nevertheless, the boy did not seem to mind. 'My name is also Harry,' he said so softly that Harry had to strain his ears to decipher the words. Hesitating a bit, he slowly placed his small hand in the teen's larger one.

'Nice to meet you,' said Harry shaking the child's hand solemnly. Glancing back at the crowd, he had a thought.

'I'll do it.' He announced loudly.

Harry's announcement had the desired effect of shutting everyone up.

'I'm sorry, but what did you just say, Harry?' Dumbledore finally said, gazing at Harry intently.

'I said, I will do it.' Harry repeated slowly. 'I will take care of this boy. We shall live together.' Saying so, he placed an arm around the boy, who, surprising everyone did not so much as flinch. In fact, the young boy leaned into the older boy's touch.

Mrs Weasley was the first person to break the shocked silence. 'Harry, dear,' she said slowly. 'You can't possibly –. You are a child yourself! You certainly cannot take care of another child!'

'I think Professor Dumbledore can see the benefits of me being the one taking care of mini-me,' Harry said quietly.

True to his word, the headmaster had a very thoughtful look on his face. 'It would certainly tie things up nicely,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'Security for both the boys would be much better for one.'

Mrs Weasley had also noticed the look on the headmaster's face. Unlike Harry, she did not think it was a good thing.

'Albus, you can't really be serious!' she said furiously in a hushed voice. 'Surely the boys' safety isn't so important as to sacrifice their happiness!'

'Oh please,' Harry scoffed. 'Like that stopped him before. Besides, I can say with utter certainty that mini-me here is going to be a hundred times happier with me than I was at his age with the Dursleys! I can hardly be worse than the Dursleys. In fact, I will start off by promising little Harry here his own room.' He bent down over the boy. 'Would you like to stay with me?'

The boy agreed readily with a shy smile and nod.

'Excellent. And you will get your own room as well,' Harry said to him with an answering smile. He looked up at the adults. 'See? That's more than what I had at his age! I am already better than the people who were supposed to take care of me.'

Mrs Weasley was at a loss for words. 'But – but,' she stuttered. 'You don't have a house!' She finished slightly victoriously. 'Where will you stay then?'

'Sirius left me Grimmauld Place,' Harry replied quickly. 'So I have a house.'

Mrs Weasley sputtered. 'This place?!' She finally exclaimed. 'You plan to stay _here_ on your own with a _little boy_?!'

'I think that it is time we ended today's meeting,' Dumbledore interjected before Harry could argue back. 'I have heard the various ideas put forth, and will think upon them tonight. I shall give my thoughts on this tomorrow, at the same time.' His electric blue eyes swept around the room, ensuring everyone's grudging agreement.

'And where will the boy stay in the meantime?' Moody asked.

'He could stay with me like has been doing for the past couple of days,' Remus offered. Stepping forward, he made to approach the aforementioned child.

However, Little Harry was having none of it. The toddler immediately burrowed into the older boy, clutching to him like a limpet.

'I do believe that Harry here is not happy with that arrangement,' Harry the teenager said idly.

'Oh don't be silly,' Lupin said in a soothing voice approaching the boy. 'You will see your new friend soon enough.' He reached out a hand to the boy.

The man was almost immediately blasted backwards. Fortunately for him, his fall was broken by Fred Weasley's face.

'Yup, not happy at all,' Harry said drily trying not to laugh out loud. Fred had literally been hit in the head by his inspiration and he didn't even know it.

'That's a rather strong reaction,' Bill noted in surprise. 'What have you three been doing to the boy?'

'Nothing!' Lupin exclaimed indignantly as he extracted himself from one of his disciples. 'We've barely spoken. He has yet to even say something. Personally, I doubt he knows how to talk.'

Harry did not see any point in telling the adults that Lupin was mistaken. He awkwardly patted the clinging infant. He must have done something right when the child released his death-grip. But it was plainly obvious that he was watching the adults warily.

Dumbledore frowned. 'Well, then our options are clear.' He said slowly. 'Harry will stay with … Harry for the night.'

Mrs Weasley was at a loss for words. Though the aghast expression on her face spoke volumes.

'It is only for one night, Molly,' Dumbledore said reasonably. 'And we can have someone here in the house to supervise.'

'Fine,' Mrs Weasley conceded unhappily. 'Just for a night.'

'Then it is settled.' Dumbledore said with finality. 'It shall be Grimmauld Place for the night.'

'I take back my earlier words.' Mrs Weasley said, throwing her hands up. ' _This_ is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard today!'

* * *

 **So, what do you think? I am rather pleased with this, seeing as it is quite a different take on the Harry-is-a-father concept.**


	10. Dumbledore's Decision

Harry scooped the last of the bacon onto a plate and put it on the table, slightly proud of himself for making his own breakfast. True, it was a simple affair comprising of a four egg omelette, some buttered toast and bacon, but it was still a meal he had made all by himself.

Who knew being made to watch bacon would help him down the line? If he didn't utterly loathe his aunt, he would have thanked her. Come to think of it, he might just thank her to see her face.

'Well,' he said to his clone. 'What do you think?'

The toddler got up on his knees from his seat at the table and gingerly poked at the omelette, a wary expression on his face.

'Ah, forgot about that,' Harry said, slapping his forehead. Picking the infant up, he sat down at the table, placing the boy on his lap. 'Problem solved,' he said brightly, handing out a knife and fork. 'Eat up!'

His answer was a blank stare.

'You don't really know how to eat with a fork and knife, do you?' Harry said slowly. He sighed when the toddler shook his head.

'Ah well, no time like the present to learn, eh? You watch me for now.' Saying so, he started cutting up small slices and feeding them to the toddler, alternately having some for himself.

'Not bad, eh?' he said to his clone. 'I think I'll add less water next time, though.'

'You never put water in your eggs in the first place, Harry,' Dumbledore commented lightly as he strode into the room and sat down across the boys.

'P-professor,' Harry sputtered, suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he was dressed in nothing but boxer shorts. His clone had decided to emulate him and was similarly dressed, though in his case he was wearing briefs. 'I thought you were coming much later.'

'Well, I felt compelled to clear my morning schedule.' Dumbledore replied nonchalantly. 'And with nothing to do, I thought it would have been best to come here and perhaps talk to Molly. Where is she?'

'Well, something came up and she had to go home last night,' Harry said with a shrug. 'I told her that we would be fine for the night. She should be here soon enough I expect.'

Dumbledore frowned. 'Very well,' he said slowly. 'I was looking forward to having some of Molly's cooking for breakfast before having a much needed discussion with you. But I suppose we can have that much needed discussion now.'

'Sure,' Harry said slowly. Suddenly remembering his manners, he said 'Want some bacon, sir?'

Dumbledore took a rasher and popped it in his mouth. 'Not bad,' he said, after swallowing. 'Much better than I would imagine the eggs are.' He wiped his hands. 'I distinctly remember you telling me you were off pork…?'

'Yes, but this is bacon! Completely different.'

'As you like it,' Dumbledore said, inclining his head. 'Now, let's get down to business, shall we? Of course, we'll do that once you are, ah, more presentable.'

Harry shrugged. 'Eh, I'm fine. Let's get this out of the way.' He had no intention of getting up from behind the table in front of his headmaster.

Dumbledore blinked. 'How Bohemian,' he commented. He looked down at Harry's clone kindly, not that it stopped the boy from flinching back at the attention.

'I have some nice toys for you to play with,' the headmaster said in a low calm voice. He waved his wand, and an assortment of toys appeared at a corner of the kitchen. 'Why don't you try them out?'

It took some encouragement from Harry, but the boy eventually slid off Harry's lap and slowly made his way over to the corner, occasionally glancing back as if to reassure himself that Harry hadn't disappeared.

Dumbledore subtly flicked his wand. 'There,' he said confidently. 'Now we have some privacy.'

'What did you cast, professor?' Harry asked curiously.

'Just a handy little privacy spell,' Dumbledore said casually. 'People can hear and see us, but they will have a hard time understanding what we say. I might teach it to you someday. But right now we have another matter to discuss, as you well know.'

'Oh,' Harry said. He took a deep breath, silently going over the argument he had thought of the previous night. 'Professor Dumbledore, you mentioned that this boy's name is Harry James Potter, right?' Harry began slowly.

'That is correct.' Dumbledore admitted.

'And this was done to ensure that he is, as you put it yesterday, "as close to the original version" which happens to me?'

'… yes, on both counts.' Dumbledore said slowly.

'Well there you have it then!' Harry said, thumping the table. 'I am not taking care of another child. I am taking care of myself! He is me, after all.'

Harry sat back expectantly.

Harry could see that Dumbledore looked thoughtful. So he pressed on. 'Professor, you mentioned earlier the reason why I had to go back to my Aunt's house.'

'Yes I did.'

'Well, Aunt Petunia is no longer the only person who shares my mother's blood.' Harry said, gesturing towards his clone. 'Besides, if we use little Harry here as the focus of the protection, then it should last much longer, shouldn't it? After all, it will be thirteen years till he turns seventeen. That's thirteen years more protection for both of us!'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'I had thought of that possibility yesterday. I will admit that I find it quite appealing. However, I cannot in good conscience burden you with a responsibility that you had no part in. I also do not think you understand how difficult it will be to take on the role of caregiver for a child. Many adults find this a daunting prospect.'

Harry snorted humourlessly. 'If I had to choose between being saddled with a kid, and going back to Privet Drive, I would choose the kid hands down. I doubt it will be fun and games, but it will be damn sight better than living with … them. And if you say you are thinking of my happiness, sir, then I will warn you now that my response is not going to be polite at all.'

Dumbledore looked at him appraisingly. 'I did not do you any favours leaving you with the Dursleys, did I?'

'I spent the first ten years of my life in a cupboard under the stairs.' Harry said flatly. 'I was in a cupboard while they had four rooms between the three of them. They only gave me Dudley's _second_ bedroom after seeing my first Hogwarts letter. Apparently the address was enough to scare them into grudgingly improving my living conditions. In the interest of time, I am not going to delve into the other crap they put me through. All I will say is that they tried their best to keep me as downtrodden as possible in order to "stamp the magic out of me". So, no, professor. You certainly did not "do me any favours".'

Harry felt savage glee at seeing the headmaster wince, however minutely. But he wasn't done yet. 'You know the worst bit of it, sir? They were so frightened of wizards and you that a mere address written in a letter improved my home life ten-fold. Imagine what would have happened if you had actually demonstrated to them that you were watching them from the beginning. I cannot begin to imagine how much better my life would have been then. And it wouldn't have taken much of an effort for you either. I know now that you've had members of the Order following me over the years before I came to Hogwarts. All they would have to do is announce their presence and intentions. I suppose I should be glad I didn't end up an Obscurial.'

'What you have told me isn't something that is unknown to me,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'Unfortunately, this all came to light much later, when you were due to attend Hogwarts. I am truly sorry for this failing. At that time, though, I was content that the protections had thwarted no less than five separate kidnapping attempts and three attempts on your life. The only time I had someone following you was when you stepped out of the protections placed. Nobody ever thought to look into the Dursleys. Again, that was an oversight that I deeply regret and unreservedly apologise for.'

Harry considered Dumbledore's words. 'I appreciate that living with them may have protected me,' he said slowly. 'But that appreciation is quite tempered by the fact that my living conditions at Privet Drive weren't the best. Getting back to the point: I am going to be the one taking care of Little Harry. Not only does it get me out of that hellhole, but I have noticed that he prefers my company more than anyone else's. I have no idea why, but there seems to be some connexion between us. I am the only person he will talk to or even look at.'

Professor Dumbledore cast a speculative glance at the young clone who until then was watching the conversation. As soon as he saw that he had the headmaster's attention, the boy quickly turned around and pretended to be engrossed in a toy, playing with it at a pace that can only be described as industrious. The toddler shortly looked back to see if Dumbledore's attention was still on him, met his amused gaze, and then went back to playing with greater intensity.

'He is unusually attached to you,' Dumbledore mused. 'And he has just met you. Curious…'

'You got that right,' Harry said, thinking about earlier that morning when he had woken up to find a tiny foot shoved in his face. Despite having put the boy up in the same room the twins had used last summer, the toddler had decided to come down to his room sometime in the night when Harry was asleep.

It was kind of cute. Slightly annoying, but cute.

Meanwhile Professor Dumbledore had stood up and made to approach the corner little Harry was occupying. The toddler immediately tensed, looking like a stray cat about to bolt.

'Fascinating,' Dumbledore said as he slowly backed off and retook his seat.

'He isn't going to be happy with anyone else, sir,' Harry observed softly. 'You should have seen him last night. Mrs Weasley was doing everything in her power to get him to come to her before she had to go home. She even offered him some food! He still wouldn't budge from my side. I think she was upset by that.' Harry just raised his hand towards his clone. Immediately the toddler zipped across the room towards him, giving the sitting headmaster a wide berth.

'The two of us will be happiest with this arrangement,' Harry said, drawing his young clone close to him. 'We will also be the most secure. Surely, you can see that?! Besides, it isn't as if I will be alone with him. You can have members of the Order checking in every now and then…'

Dumbledore sighed heavily. 'You certainly have given me much food for thought,' he said at length. He slowly got to his feet. 'Very well, I shall talk to the Order. But,' he said over Harry's cheering. 'I make no promises.'

'Yes, sir.' Harry said with a wide grin that was mirrored by his younger doppelganger.

Albus internally sighed at the twin expressions of hope and happiness. He really hoped he wasn't making another colossal mistake with regards to Harry.

To think he had come here to escape the complication of dealing with the Ministry officials who had come to the school this morning. He was beginning to feel that the mess involving Umbridge, and her excesses of power was far less complicated than this.

And to top it all off, it hadn't taken long for Peeves and the students to notice that her office was unguarded and that she was on her way out. He almost felt sorry for the hapless ministry worker that had been sent to collect her things. Untangling the various curses, hexes, charms and jinxes that had been cast by many vengeful students wasn't going to be easy for someone who wasn't him, Filius or Minerva. And that wasn't even taking into account the havoc Peeves had wrought.

* * *

Harry bounced a ball across the hall, watching his younger self run to catch it with amusement. The kid was quite active when he wasn't aware of any adult presence in the room. At least, Harry assumed that he was reserved among adults. He wondered how the kid would take to people Harry's age.

He couldn't help a smirk when the toddler enthusiastically threw the ball back. At least there was enough momentum for the ball to roll towards him. Picking it up, he glanced at the closed kitchen door.

There wasn't any noise coming through the room. Not that it was surprising, Harry was around when the noise abruptly cut off a minute or so after the door closed. He idly wondered if Fred and George would consent to giving him a device to eavesdrop on future Order meetings despite the muffling charms placed on the door.

Normally, he would have objected in being excluded, but he did not want to be around Mrs Weasley when she first heard Dumbledore's decision.

Just as he was about to throw the ball again, the door opened. Little Harry suddenly froze, looking at the door warily as he hurried to Teenage Harry's side, hiding behind the older boy's school robes.

The Weasley brothers were the first ones out. 'Harry, they want you in,' Fred said bracingly as he and George passed the teen. Spotting Little Harry peeking from behind the original's legs, he made a funny face causing the toddler to duck back. Snorting in amusement, he refocused his attention on Harry. 'Some friendly advice, mate. Mum does not look happy. And she hasn't found a target to release the rant she has been building up ever since yesterday when you volunteered. Anyway, good luck!'

Entering the kitchen, Harry saw Dumbledore, Mr and Mrs Weasley, and Tonks seated at the head of the table. Mrs Weasley had a very displeased look on her face. Her lips thinned when she saw little Harry try and fuse to him as soon as he was seated.

'Well, Harry,' Dumbledore said as soon as Harry was settled in. 'After considering various factors, it was determined by all of us-' Mrs Weasley harrumphed, '-that the best solution is for little Harry to live with you for the summer. In that time period, Mrs Weasley and Miss Tonks will be visiting on a regular basis along with other members of the Order. Hopefully by then your clone will be more comfortable with one of those adults to allow them to take care of him when school starts. The blood based protections should be stable enough by then. We shall be having another meeting regarding this a few days before term starts.'

'That's great!' Harry exclaimed, ignoring Mrs Weasley's disapproving frown. Admittedly he hadn't thought about school, but as long as he was no longer in Privet Drive, he was happy.

'Yes, well,' Dumbledore cleared his throat. 'I have reached out to some of my myriad contacts about finding a suitable place of residence for the two of you. I should have an answer soon enough. Once that happens, you and I shall be going to Gringotts to have the property registered in your name. Speaking of which, a visit there is well overdue. There is other business regarding your parents' and Sirius' estates to take care of. I also have set the ball rolling in quietly getting you emancipated. There is no reason for Fudge to get wind of that. That, for the moment, should take care of how the two of you stand legally. We might have to change that definition soon, but since the existence of Harry the Younger is only known to a few select individuals who I trust, we don't have to worry about it at the moment.'

'"Harry the Younger" … I like it,' the original Harry said. He nudged the child now sitting on his lap. 'What do you think?'

Harry the Younger gave a shy smile and nodded. 'OK, that's what he shall be officially known as,' Harry declared.

Dumbledore smiled a bit at the easy interaction between the two boys. 'Well,' he said, standing up. 'I shall be on my way. I have a lot to do. Harry, Mrs Weasley has suggestions about what she terms, "Childcare". I shall leave you to her. After that, Miss Tonks will side-along Apparate you to Hogwarts where you can collect your things from your dorm, and if the situation permits it, have a few words with your friends.'

Dumbledore swept out of the room, leaving Harry with the Weasleys and Tonks.

'I think I have some work to do … somewhere in the house,' Tonks said, getting up, her eyes fixed on Mrs Weasley who was looking at Harry beadily.

'Sounds interesting, allow me to help you.' Mr Weasley said as he also got up. The two of them hurriedly left the kitchen.

Harry tried for a winning smile at Mrs Weasley, but did not get one in return.

'For the record,' she said with a disgruntled expression. 'I am not happy about this decision. It is monumentally stupid in my opinion. But since people aren't going to listen to me, I suppose I can only go with the flow and ensure that at the end of the day this child here not only ends up alive, but healthy, happy and most importantly clean.'

As she paused to take a deep breath, Harry had a very bad feeling about all of this.

'Right, today we shall cover basic hygiene…'


	11. Friendly Advice

'You are dead, Potter.'

Harry felt a sort of savage satisfaction at the look of anger on Malfoy's face. The blonde had been one of the many things making life difficult for him the past year.

'Am I?!' He made a show of checking himself over. 'No, I don't think so. You might want to get your eyes checked, Malfoy.'

'You think you're so funny, don't you?' Malfoy said, narrowing his eyes and taking a few steps towards Harry and away from Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry pretended to think this through as he palmed his wand, keeping it hidden within the folds of his school robes. 'You know what, Malfoy, I must say I do. I think that surviving another Killing Curse cast by Voldemort must have done something wonderful to my sense of humour!'

A smirk came on his face seeing the other boys flinch at the use of the dreaded name.

'We will make you pay for what you did to my father, Potter!' Malfoy spat. 'You can't land him in prison. The –'

'Yes, because your dad's boss was just a warm up act compared to you three,' Harry said dryly.

'Stop interrupting me!' Malfoy snarled. 'The dementors have left Azkaban, my father will be out soon –'

'Actually, I doubt that.' Harry said, speaking over Draco again. 'See, even if he did want to leave the prison, he would actually be safer in Azkaban. If I were him, I would not leave that place.'

'Why, you think he should be afraid of you, Potter?' Malfoy said with a derisive sneer.

'Me? Merlin, no!' Harry replied breezily. 'No, he should be afraid of Voldemort. Especially once he finds out how badly your daddy screwed things up in our second year…'

Draco flinched again, possibly at the use of the name. This time Harry could see some doubt in the other teen's eyes. 'I have no idea what –'

'Well, then get an idea,' Harry retorted. 'Your life, and the life of your mum might just depend on what I just told you.' By now he had managed to circle the three Slytherins so that he was now on the steps that lead up. He could see that the other three had just realised what he had done.

'Potter!'

A rush of hatred came across Harry as he saw the loathsome form of the Potions teacher. 'What do you think you're doing here?' Snape asked, cold as ever.

'Dispensing free advice.' Harry said curtly. 'Now, if you'll excuse me,' he turned to head inwards.

'Just where do you think you're going, Potter?' Snape's voice rang out. 'I am not done with you yet.'

Harry turned around. 'Too bad,' he found himself saying. 'Because I am.' Curling his lip, he added a 'Sir,' with as much loathing and contempt he could manage. Turning his gaze to Malfoy who was still standing there, frozen, Harry said, 'Think carefully about what I said, Malfoy.'

Then he whirled around and headed towards his dorm, not sparing the shocked professor a second glance.

* * *

Harry paused at the entrance of the Hospital Wing in surprise. From the looks of things, Hermione and Luna were in a very heated argument.

'What's going on?' he said, walking in. Now that he thought about it, it was inevitable that they would end up arguing.

'Hey, Harry,' Neville said, sounding bemused. 'Luna and Hermione were arguing about you.'

'What about me?'

'Well, Luna is of the opinion that Dumbledore is some master manipulator whose sole desire in life has been to control every aspect of yours.'

'Of course!' Luna declared to Hermione. 'It makes sense. Why else would the headmaster send Harry to live with Muggle relatives who, as you told me earlier, hate magic and him? He wants to mould Harry into the perfect pawn who will see him as some god-figure and only listen to everything he says.'

Harry decided to intervene before Hermione had an aneurysm. 'That makes no sense,' he said loudly. 'A lot of things could go wrong with that plan. For one, he cannot really predict how my relatives would have treated me. Then there is no guarantee that I would have turned out the way I did thanks to their treatment of me. He didn't really keep much of a tab on me till I had to start school here. Even if he had, there is still no guarantee I would have responded predictably at all. And I am pretty certain that he has made mistakes. He admitted to a few other mistakes himself. So I really don't see him anything close to a "god-figure", as you put it, at all.'

'Exactly what I was saying!' Hermione said with vindication.

'Also,' Harry said as another thought occurred to him. 'If he really wanted me to be the way you say he wanted me to be, then wouldn't it be more sensible for him to just place me with people who are utterly loyal to him? Failing that, why not just raise me himself? I'd be growing up listening to how brilliant Professor Dumbledore is. By the time I start my first year, I'd be just as bad as Hagrid is right now.'

'Excellent point, Harry!' Hermione said approvingly. 'I wish I had thought of that…'

'Well, I suppose you have a point,' Luna finally said grudgingly. 'Well, there goes that idea for an article at the Quibbler.'

Hermione took a deep calming breath and sank back on her bed muttering to herself.

'So,' Ron said. 'What have you been up to, Harry? Hermione and I woke up yesterday, by the way, thanks for asking. Where were you anyway?'

Harry grimaced. 'Sorry I wasn't there, mate. And a lot has happened.' He exhaled. 'I don't even know where to begin.'

'Well, that Killing Curse you were hit by in the Ministry would be a great place to start!' Neville interjected helpfully.

Harry slowly put a palm to his face as Ron and Hermione digested this information. 'Killing Curse?!' Hermione said in alarm. 'You were hit by a _Killing Curse!_ '

'Not so loud!' Harry hissed, frantically looking around. He did not know what Madam Pomfrey would do to him if she heard this.

Neville, however, wasn't done being the helpful bringer of news. 'And You-Know-Who was the one casting it too!' He said in a tone that Harry thought was a bit too cheerful.

'Why? Just … why?!' Harry asked Neville plaintively. He turned back to his gaping friends. 'Look, it's no big deal. Please don't panic. I don't want Pomfrey on my case. Especially right now.'

'No big deal?!' Ginny piped up incredulously. 'You got hit by a Killing Curse! Again! It is a pretty big deal! Oh, and to top all this off, we don't see hide nor hair of you since Neville, Luna and I woke up! You can't just waltz in here and say it's not a big deal. Do you have any idea how worried we all were?'

There was a tense silence. 'That was a lot like mum,' Ron said in an awed voice, causing Ginny to blush.

'Well,' she said in stilted tones. 'He deserved it.'

'I get that you have all been worried,' Harry said slowly. 'But I had good reason for disappearing. See, I have had quite a tonne of information dumped upon me in the past day. And trust me, this makes dying and coming back to life pale in comparison.'

He knew he said the wrong thing when his friends all gaped.

'Let's shelve that aside for now,' he said hastily, before Hermione could open her mouth. Quickly, and in hushed tones, he summarized what he had learnt in the past day.

'So you have a younger version of yourself running around?' Hermione said incredulously. She exhaled noisily. 'Wow … I just … how are you feeling? This must have been quite a shock.'

'I'm taking it as it goes.' Harry said after giving it some thought. 'It's just … bizarre to say the least. I do feel violated though. I had no idea that they had made another copy of me! The whole thing just feels so wrong. And judging by the way that kid has been acting, I can't imagine what they must have done to him. I really dread finding that out.'

'Where is this … copy of you?' Ron asked, sitting up and looking around as if Harry was hiding the child on his person.

'He's at headquarters for the moment,' Harry said. 'Your mum is taking care of him till I get back.' He didn't want to mention the amount of drama his leaving the child behind had caused.

'Why would you have to "get back"?' Hermione asked in a tone that Harry thought was a bit unfairly suspicious.

'Um … that would be because I am going to be sort of taking care of him?' Harry said hesitatingly. He had a feeling that she wasn't going to be taking that well.

He wasn't wrong.

'I am sorry what?' Hermione asked in disbelief. 'Did I hear that right?'

'If you mean did you hear from Harry that he is planning on playing house with a three-year-old then yeah, you heard that right,' Ginny said blandly. 'Harry, this is an idiotic idea.'

'Your mother said something like that,' Harry replied brightly.

'Well, fancy that,' Ginny said sarcastically.

'Mate, you have to admit that it is a bit crazy,' Ron said slowly. 'Surely there is another option.'

'I never thought the day would come where I actually find myself agreeing with Ron here for once,' Hermione said. 'What does Dumbledore have to say to all of this?'

'He agreed. I managed to convince him.'

Hermione was speechless.

'Look,' Harry said. 'Security-wise, it works out because there is this charm that Dumbledore used based off my mum's sacrifice that protects me at Privet Drive till I am seventeen. He can now use this charm with me and mini-me only this time it will be around till mini-me turns seventeen. See? Also, it helps a lot that the kid has become rather attached to me. I am the only one who he will talk to, look at in the eye, and will allow to be touched by. I know that he will be unhappy with anyone else. Besides, this way, not only will I ensure his happiness, but mine as well.'

Hermione took some time to digest this. 'I don't get that last bit.' She finally said.

'Well, I will no longer have to go to the Dursleys, and I get emancipation.' Harry said matter-of-factly. 'I'd say that's cause for happiness.'

'You're going to be able to do magic outside school a whole year early?' Ron asked. 'Well, I guess there is some bright side to this.'

Hermione gave her bedridden oldest friend an exasperated look before giving the sitting oldest friend a long searching look. 'Fine, I suppose,' she finally said. 'I still think it's not that great an idea and that Dumbledore and the Order seem to have all gone dotty to go along with this, but since resistance is futile, why not get on this crazy train.' She closed her eyes and pinched her nose. 'Hopefully I will be able to steer you from a nasty wreckage.' She shifted in her bed to make herself more comfortable and winced when her wound got aggravated. 'So, I remember some books on parenting that my parents had in their house. You might find those useful. Should I send them over?'

'Thanks for the offer, but I'm good,' Harry replied. 'Mrs Weasley has taken it upon herself to help. She wants to ensure I don't fudge things up. I just came from a lesson.'

'Oh that's nice.' Hermione replied. 'What did she teach you?' she asked in her typical curious fashion.

'Ahem, it was personal hygiene.' Harry said gruffly.

'That doesn't sound too bad.' Ginny said slowly.

'I had a nice long and detailed sermon on how I should be bathing a toddler.' Harry said sourly. He took a deep breath. 'Including instructions on how to clean certain … parts of the body.' He blushed a bit. 'And I am apparently expected to bathe _with_ the moppet.'

Ginny couldn't help a giggle. 'I suppose you will have to show him how to clean himself, eh? I can just picture it now.'

'You are a strange woman, Ginny Weasley,' Luna declared.

Ron, however, let loose a guffaw. 'You technically just had a conversation with my mum on how to clean yourself!'

Harry smiled blandly. 'You know, Hermione, Mrs Weasley is a pretty good teacher. Her teaching style is a bit unorthodox, though. She likes to use a lot of anecdotes. You learn a lot from those stories. Like how Ron over here refused to bathe alone till he was seven.'

Ron immediately shut up. 'What?' He squeaked, blushing.

'Yup,' Harry carried on unrepentantly. 'According to Mrs Weasley that is quite late. But she had to put her foot down eventually because she was beginning to find it rather awkward.'

Neville nearly fell off the bed laughing as Ron slowly sank beneath the sheets.

Harry wasn't finished. He turned to Ginny who was now breathless with laughter. 'Then again, that is much better than a certain someone else who apparently was very curious about the thing between her older brother's legs during bath time when they were five…'

Ginny immediately stopped laughing, turning the exact shade of a particularly ripe tomato.

'I am so going to kill my mother,' she squeaked, hiding her face as everyone else chortled.


	12. Monetary Matters

Harry stared at the piece of parchment handed to him for a very long time. He peered particularly at the number at the bottom. He certainly hadn't seen so many commas in his life.

'This is all mine?' He asked aloud.

'Yes,' the goblin replied curtly. 'Otherwise the number would be different.' Muttering imprecations against wizards, witches and the human race in general under its breath, the goblin left the room.

'I have tried to grow your fortune as much as possible, Harry,' Dumbledore said slowly. 'Using the services of Mr Bennet here,' he waved his hand at the man sitting next to him.

'Thank you, sir,' Harry said sincerely. He looked again at the parchment detailing his wealth. 'You did a great job!'

'It was the least I could do, my boy,' Dumbledore said graciously. 'Of course, I cannot take credit for that. Mr Bennet here did all the heavy work. I suggest listening to him now as he has some information for you.'

Mr Bennet, a tall thin wizard who reminded Harry vaguely of a vulture, opened a large book with long fingered hands and started speaking slowly, pointing out the various interests that he had invested the Potter family's rather considerable fortune.

From what Harry could gather, a bulk of the fortune that his father had willed for him could be owed to his grandfather's invention, the late tragically named Fleamont Potter. The irony of it being Sleekeazy's Hair Potion was not lost on the messy haired teenager as he dragged a hand through his errant locks.

'So I have a controlling stake?' Harry asked Mr Bennet.

'Yes, sir, that means that you own more than half of the company's shares.' The older man said patiently.

Nodding, Harry listened attentively, occasionally taking notes as the man managing his fortune spoke to him.

'You must have many questions,' Dumbledore commented after they were done and had left the bank.

'A fair few,' Harry replied. 'From what I gather, I have quite a bit of gold, but next to nothing in property. That is if you don't count my parents' old house in Godric's Hollow that has been turned into a monument.'

'You are correct,' Dumbledore replied. 'The Ministry is currently paying a good stipend to you which comes from all the exhibitions held there.'

Harry still didn't know how he felt about the whole thing. From what he could understand, the government was all for nationalizing the property initially. It was only because of the headmaster and Mr Bennet that Harry was getting a steady income.

It didn't hurt that the house itself was on ancestral land of great historical significance.

'I would like to go there some day.' Harry said in a would-be casual voice.

'That can be arranged,' Dumbledore said, nodding. 'Tell me when you are free, and I can arrange for someone to take you there.'

Harry made a noise of agreement. 'I have a lot of looking up to do,' he commented, patting the sheaf of parchment he was carrying with him.

'Ah, yes,' Dumbledore replied. 'Well, I may not be an expert in such matters, but I can handle some basic information. I also suggest looking up a few of the Arithmancy books as well. They might help with many of those questions.'

They entered the Leaky Cauldron and made their way to a private parlour that Dumbledore had reserved earlier.

'So,' the headmaster said, as he sat down. 'How does, for the lack of a better word, parenthood suiting you Harry?'

'Well, it is fine so far,' Harry said. 'It has been a week, but we seem to be getting along fine.'

Shortly enough, their lunch arrived. Harry did not know what to make of the fact that he was having a casual lunch with Albus Dumbledore of all people. It was certainly surreal. Although, it wasn't as surreal as Dumbledore implying that Harry was a father or something. It made him feel quite mature, but not necessarily in a good way.

'Er, when will the new place be ready?' Harry asked in a bid to get his mind off the subject of "parenthood".

'Well, it should be ready in a few days,' Dumbledore said, putting his knife and fork down and picking up his napkin. 'By then, you should be considered an emancipated minor and a legal adult. Hopefully, everything shall fall into place in a nice and timely manner. I have for your consideration a few nice properties that you might like. I will send you a file with pictures for consideration.'

'That sounds brilliant, sir.' Harry said enthusiastically. Another thought then occurred to Harry. 'Will I be able to get a licence to Apparate once I become emancipated?'

'That is a good idea,' Dumbledore said thoughtfully. 'I do not see any problem with it. I am sure you can get Miss Tonks to teach you. After all, she is going to be in constant contact with you. And speaking of Miss Tonks, she should be here any moment…'

As if on cue, the door opened, letting in the aforementioned Auror.

'Wotcher, Harry!' She said cheerfully. 'Ready to go?'

'And now I must leave,' Dumbledore said, getting up. Smiling at the two, he swept out of the room.

An hour later, Harry was back home, wearing new clothes and laden down with an uncountable number of bags of clothing for both him and his clone.

'Good day?' Mrs Weasley asked pleasantly when Harry entered the kitchen.

'Exhausting,' Harry said with feeling as he slumped into the nearest chair. 'But yeah, it was a good day. I hope little Harry hasn't been any trouble?'

'Oh, he has been quite a lamb, ever so shy.' Mrs Weasley said fondly. 'Of course, that is his normal behaviour whenever anyone who isn't you is around.'

Looking at the barely concealed sadness in Mrs Weasley's face, Harry hastened to reassure her. 'I am sure he will warm up to you eventually, Mrs Weasley.'

Mrs Weasley smiled wanly. 'I am not worried about that, dear, but thank you nonetheless.'

'Professor Dumbledore said that he has found a suitable house and we should be able to move in a few days.' Harry ventured after a long silence.

'Well … that is good, I suppose,' Mrs Weasley said very slowly. Sighing, she got on her feet. 'Well, it's time to prepare dinner. Shall we, Harry?'

Harry joined her at the counter with enthusiasm. Mrs Weasley was quite touched when he had first asked her to teach him to cook the very next day after Dumbledore had announced his decision. She had informed him that none of her children had thought to ask her for cooking lessons. Harry was then treated to amusing stories about Bill and Charlie's adventures in the kitchen in their first few weeks living abroad. The two of them then speculated about the amount of trouble Fred and George would get into when trying to fend for themselves, while wondering how Ron would cope being on his own. While Harry was quick to assure her that Ron would be living with him once he decided to move out of the Burrow, Mrs Weasley just shook her head and dryly remarked that it would be a miracle if the house didn't come crashing down their ears should her son and Harry end up living together for an extended period of time.

'After all, Hogwarts is barely standing, and it is a thousand-year-old castle!' she quipped, a twinkle in her eye.

Harry noticed that Percy wasn't mentioned, but he wasn't going to come near that topic.

Today, Mrs Weasley was giving him directions for making Shepherd's Pie. It was something he had made earlier with a lot of help from the older woman, but today, she was sitting on a chair and supervising him as he cut the various vegetables and meat, calling out directions every now and then.

'As soon as The Trace has been lifted from you, I shall teach you some household spells that you can use to make cooking even easier.' She remarked when they placed the dish in the oven to bake.

'Why would we need to bother with The Trace now?' Harry asked curiously. 'We are in a house that is under layers and layers of protective charms, not to mention the Fidelius Charm. Isn't the Ministry unable to detect underage magic in places of high magic usage?'

Harry wondered if he had said something wrong when Mrs Weasley froze at those words. 'How did you know that?' She asked in a hushed whisper.

'Um, I figured that much out over the years,' Harry began slowly. 'I had that confirmed from … various sources.'

'And would one of those "sources" happen to be my husband?' Mrs Weasley asked archly.

'Oh, no, Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley hasn't breathed a word of that to me!'

'Of course,' Mrs Weasley replied. 'Yes, Arthur knows better. Well, I hope you don't go around telling all your friends. I have no intention of Ron or Ginny finding out.'

'Yes ma'am,' Harry replied promptly. 'I won't breathe a word of that to Ron or Ginny. But I don't know if Fred or George will tell them.'

'If they know what's good for them, they will heed the warning I gave them the day they were accepted as members of the Order.' Mrs Weasley said darkly. Suddenly she smiled. 'It's nice of you not to tell them, Harry dear. I really appreciate your silence…'

Harry swallowed. 'Thanks, Mrs Weasley,' he said nervously a bit unnerved at the sudden change of mood.

With a smile the matronly woman waved her wand and had the various utensils used so far cleaning themselves.

'Um, why don't you want them to know?' Harry asked tentatively.

'It builds character dear,' Mrs Weasley said. 'Nothing like some manual labour to give one an appreciation for magic, if you ask me. It produces responsible witches and wizards. Besides, I do believe in following the spirit of the Decree of Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery.' Under her breath she muttered. 'And I'd rather not deal with the nightmare of having a horde of hormone-crazy children waving wands and throwing hexes at each other in my house at the drop of a hat, thank you very much.'

'I'll go and check on Little Harry,' Harry said, getting up.

Approaching the toddler's room, he reflected that whoever in the Department of Mysteries that had been taking care of the kid had done a hell of a job in drilling in nap times and toilet training. For a three-year-old, the boy was very regimental when it came to his sleeping timetable. And he hadn't had one accident, which was something Mrs Weasley said generally happened to kids his age.

Although, Harry reflected ruefully as he found the bedroom empty, the boy did have the habit of wanting to sleep in Harry's room. Locking the door didn't seem to help much because the child, as he had found out (and been told) had an exceptional level of control over his magic.

He still didn't know if he should find this irritating, amusing or cute.

* * *

Senna waved her wand, causing her possessions to sail from various spots in her room into her trunk.

Just a few hours back, she had chanced upon a conversation that she was not meant to have heard.

As soon as she had figured out that her boss was talking to Albus Dumbledore, and on what subject, she had fled from the Ministry and Apparated home.

At first, she and her four other colleagues had thought nothing of their boss's order to lie low in their houses and make no contact with any person. Indeed, she would have been blissfully unaware of what was really going on had she not spotted her boss and Dumbledore walking together. Something about that scene had made her suspicious, and she had decided to follow them.

It was a matter of simplicity for her to remain unnoticed as the two men settled themselves in the office of the head of the department. It was also quite simple for her to eavesdrop on what otherwise would have been an impossible to hear conversation, as she used some rather obscure spells that had been developed by one of the top researchers of secrecy charms and a dear work-friend of hers.

What she heard chilled her. Somehow her old headmaster had found out about the young boy they had created and were going to train to take down the Dark Lord. She heard everything as the old man used this information to essentially blackmail her superior.

In exchange for the Dumbledore's silence about the clone, the headmaster had demanded that all the people involved in The Project have their memories wiped of the work done immediately and all their research be handed over personally to him to be destroyed.

As the leader of the project, this was something that she just couldn't take. There was no way anyone was going to undo her Magnum Opus!

As soon as she had reached her house, she started packing at a frenetic pace. She was in the middle of dumping all the scrolls of parchment that contained her research into her bag when the security charms around her house warned her of visitors.

A glance outside the window showed two individuals, clearly from the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, casually walking up to the gate that lead to her front yard. Their body language suggested that they were expecting her to be unaware of their arrival till it was too late.

Grimly, she shrunk her luggage and hastened towards the basement where there was a secret exit that she had built some time back. Only a fool would try to use the Floo network to escape right now, and apparition was too much of a giveaway.

Poking her head out of the end of the tunnel, a good distance away from her home, she watched her two would-be captors through a pair of Omnioculars. From the looks of things, they had just knocked the door and were waiting for her to answer. It would take some time before they realised that she wasn't home, and then even more time before they find the passage she had installed.

By then, they would be too late.

Turning on the spot, she vanished with a crack that she knew wouldn't be heard by those thugs.


	13. Relative Freedom

Harry looked around his new house with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. He finally was getting a place all to himself!

It was a modest sized two storied house in the middle of the countryside somewhere in North Yorkshire a few miles from Whitby. The property was surrounded on all sides by meadow. From the first floor window in the master bedroom, Harry could see a cliff in the far distance that lead to the coastline. He could also make out a pathway running down to what he was hoping would be a decent enough beach.

The inside wasn't half-bad either. There were three bedrooms with attached bathrooms in the first floor while the ground floor comprised of a large drawing room, and a decently-sized dining room and kitchen.

'I like this place, alright.' Harry said as he joined Dumbledore in the empty drawing room.

'Yes, it does have a certain charm,' Dumbledore remarked his voice echoing slightly in the empty room. 'I am surprised that you chose this place. I thought you would have gone for the other options…'

'I suppose that is true,' Harry replied. 'That flat in Kensington looked rather appealing, but I doubt I will be able to play Quidditch there! Besides, this place is nice and far away from Muggles, we have a big chunk of land to adequately protect without drawing too much attention. And I like the quiet.'

'If you like it…' Dumbledore looked around him. 'We should get some furniture here.' He commented.

Harry made a face when he thought of the shopping that would be involved. He wasn't all that big on shopping to begin with.

'Or maybe when I have people over, we can just conjure the necessary furniture!' Harry said brightly.

'I would not recommend it.' Dumbledore said slowly. 'Asking your guests to conjure their own furniture is rather gauche. It's as bad as Apparating directly into someone's home. Regardless, you don't really have a choice. You haven't learnt conjuring at that level yet.'

Harry exhaled. 'Fine,' he said, admitting defeat.

'Worry not, my dear boy. I have taken the liberty of having someone choose the appropriate fittings. If I may?' Dumbledore looked at Harry inquiringly.

'Sure,'

The headmaster took his wand and a small box out. With a wave, the box opened and an assortment of objects flew out of it. Within a few moments, the once barren living room was now well-furnished.

'Well, it looks comfortable,' Harry said as he gingerly sat down on a wingchair. Peering around him, he had to admit that it all looked pretty good.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly. 'Yes, it does fit the house rather well. And I am assured that it is something someone your age would find apropos. Shall we take care of the other rooms?'

In the span of fifteen minutes, what was once an empty house was now a well-furnished home. Harry had to admit that whoever had chosen the furniture had done a good job. He had a hard time imagining the house without all the fixtures that now populated the room. And it didn't look too old-person like.

'I had a hunch you'd have gone for this place,' Dumbledore commented when the boy mentioned this. 'So I had someone I knew pick the right decorations. I have already paid for this, so consider this a housewarming gift from me.'

'Thank you sir!' Harry said gratefully. This was the biggest gift he had been given, and he did not know what more he could say.

The rest of the day was spent in packing both the boys' possessions and moving to the new house. Harry might have stayed in Grimmauld Place for a short time, but somehow all his possessions had become scattered. And his younger self had acquired a fair amount of his own possessions that had to be packed in as well.

Harry collapsed in what was fast becoming his favourite wingchair with a sigh. At least he only had to make one trip with all the luggage to the new house thanks to magic.

'So, what do you think, mate?' he asked Little Harry, who had by then quietly made his way into the room.

Harry sighed as the toddler just climbed into his lap and burrowed into him, feeling guilty for the small flash of irritation that came to him at the child's clinginess.

At least the moppet had dialled down the anxiety displayed every time Harry had to step out of the house. Harry vividly remembered the first time he had left in front of the toddler. The boy had started bawling at the top of his head and absolutely refused to relax the death grip he had on Harry's left leg. It was only after the child had fallen asleep out of exhaustion that Harry could leave.

He had come back to quite a bit of drama. The boy had managed to barricade himself in Harry's room at Grimmauld Place and wouldn't leave till Harry himself came in, somehow managing to use magic that had bamboozled all the counter-spells the adults had tried to unlock the door.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by his stomach growling. Immediately his younger self looked up at him.

'Hungry?' Harry asked the tot. He smiled at the empathetic 'Food!' he got from the child in reply.

Lifting the boy up, Harry placed him on the floor and got up himself. Taking the child's hand, he moved towards the kitchen.

Just then, a sudden sound came from the direction of the kitchen, making both boys freeze. The teenager extracted his hand from the toddler and ushered his charge behind him. Taking his wand out, he slowly opened the door to the kitchen.

'Harry Potter, Sir!'

Harry blinked as a small missile hurtled towards him and latched onto his knees.

'Hello, Dobby.' He said with no small amount of surprise. 'What are you doing here?'

The elf bounced back with a big grin on his face. 'Dobby heard tell that the great Harry Potter be living on his own! So Dobby thought he could help Harry Potter. Especially when Dobby hear of bad elf Kreacher,' here he turned to glare at the far end of the kitchen.

Glancing in that direction, Harry saw the surly form of Sirius' old House-Elf at the stove. 'Ah, Kreacher. What are you doing here?'

'Kreacher is cooking for the good master.' The old elf said in reply. 'It is, after all, Kreacher's duty.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. The smells coming from the kitchen so far were quite inviting, and the elf seemed to have come around. That didn't mean he didn't have reservations, though. 'Very well,' he finally said.

'Dobby be watching bad elf and ensuring he is doing his work properly,' Dobby declared, unknowingly solving Harry's dilemma before it began.

'OK, then,' Harry said to the free elf. Leaning down to Dobby's height, he put a hand on the elf's shoulder. 'If you are going to be helping around here, then I guess I should inform you about what's going on so far in my life.'

Turning around, he raised his voice. 'Oi kid. Come in here, it's safe.'

A pair of big green eyes slowly peeked into the kitchen from the doorframe. Seeing the encouraging looks from Harry, the rest of the toddler's body slowly came into view.

Dobby immediately gasped. 'Oh, how glorious! The Great Harry Potter has a son!' He turned his much larger green eyes towards Harry. 'What is his name, sir?'

Harry found himself blushing. 'Ah, Dobby, I am afraid that isn't my son.' He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Dobby doesn't understand,' the elf squeaked, confused. 'He looks a lot like the Great Harry Potter, just like former little master Draco looked like former bad master. Former bad master called former little master his son.' He paused, staring intently at Harry's charge. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. 'Ah, Dobby understands now, this is Harry Potter's daughter! Dobby doesn't understand the difference between young masters and mistresses.'

By this time, a curious Kreacher had shuffled his way to the small drama that was unfolding. 'Don't be silly,' the old elf rasped with an air of authority. 'That is clearly a wizard. Look at his hair, it is short.'

'Bad elf Kreacher does not know what he is talking about!' Dobby said just as authoritatively. 'Albus Dumbledore is a wizard and he has long hair! So does Professor Snapey.'

Kreacher pondered this. 'The little one does not have the shape of a witch,' he finally said. 'Maybe we should check under the clothes…'

At this point Harry found his voice. 'Alright that is quite enough.' He said loudly. While the conversation he was witness to was entertaining (especially what they called Snape) he didn't think it was a good idea to let this go further. 'This is Harry, and he is not my son, or my daughter. He is my clone.'

The two elves looked at him blankly.

'What is a Köln?'

Harry wasn't sure how, but he had the distinct impression that Kreacher was pronouncing the word differently.

'Clone,' he repeated slowly. 'A clone is a … well, he is a – a part of me, erm, created by…' he trailed off, at a loss of words as he realised that nobody had really covered the mechanics of how his charge came into being. Something told him that it would involve words and subjects covered at a higher level after school. Not that it really mattered either way seeing as the documentation relating to his clone's existence was missing, the head of the project having absconded with it.

Just then he noticed that the elves were still looking at him expectantly. 'Fine,' he said with a sigh. 'That's my son.' Throwing his hands up in the air, he muttered to himself. 'Why not?'

Catching the eye of his clone, he gave a smile and a wink, amused at the toddler's clumsy attempt at winking back as Little Harry smiled back shyly.

* * *

Harry watched Dumbledore as the old man waved his wand and muttered to himself, pacing the perimeter of the house.

The headmaster had turned up nearly a week after Harry had moved into the new house to cast the protective enchantments that would be powered by the sacrifice Harry's mother had made. Harry still marvelled at how painless the process of drawing blood was through magic. All the headmaster had done was tap his wand to his and his clone's arm and tap a phial which instantly was full of the red fluid.

'Is it done?' Harry asked uncertainly as soon as the old man stopped.

'I do believe it has,' Dumbledore said looking around. 'Now all I have to do is bring down the charm on Privet Drive. And while I am at it, I should probably inform your relatives that you shall not be residing with them anymore.'

'They'll be over the moon,' Harry said sardonically.

Dumbledore's beard twitched. 'Indeed,' he said. 'Is there business you wish to take care of at Privet Drive? Perhaps some belongings …?'

Harry snorted. 'I highly doubt that. There is no way I would ever consider leaving any of my possessions _there_. They'd probably burn it or throw it!'

'Ah, so I take it that you have no desire to go there?'

Harry thought about the question. 'Actually, why not?' he said with a shrug. 'Might as well check. What do we do about this one though?' he jerked his head towards his clone who at the moment was doing … something nearby. Harry really couldn't make any sense of what game the boy was playing as he frolicked about.

'He seems quite lost in his own world,' Dumbledore remarked.

Harry snorted. 'I think he's become comfortable in your presence for some reason. He's quieter than Hedwig out on a hunt when Mrs Weasley or Tonks is around.'

They spent a few moments looking at the child. Dumbledore had a wistful look on his face.

'Perhaps we could take him with us?' he finally said. Turning, he saw the incredulous look on the young wizard's face. 'Ah, you have concerns. Not to worry, Harry. He will be with me at all times.'

Harry was not assuaged. 'I hope you mean that he will be far, far away from the house. If not, then I'd rather have Dobby take care of him. There's less chance of something bad happening that way.'

'There is no need for such extreme measures, my boy,' Dumbledore said mildly. 'I do believe there is a play park nearby where I can supervise your young charge. It will be nice to take him out somewhere new.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Fine.' He said. 'Just keep him from Dudley's gang then.'

'I do not envision any problems in handling a few juvenile Muggles.'

Turning to call Harry the younger, Harry rolled his eyes. 'Oi, kid!'

The boy immediately stopped what he was doing and dashed over to Harry. Bending down, the older teen said. 'Do you want to go out for a short trip?'

The toddler nodded vigorously and giving Dumbledore a slightly suspicious look, sidled to Harry's other side where he grasped his hand.

'I heard from Miss Tonks that you have managed to acquire an Apparition licence.' Dumbledore commented.

'Oh yeah,' Harry said with a proud smile. 'It took me three days but I did it! Even managed to do the side-apparition thing too!'

'Yes, Miss Tonks did mention that. She was very impressed. I admit that I am as well. It is a very remarkable achievement. I doubt there are many who can do it in such a short time.' Dumbledore replied.

Harry ducked his head, blushing a little. 'Thank you, sir.'

'Now, how about you show me your skills?'

Nodding, Harry scooped up his younger version in his arms. Dumbledore put an arm on the boy's elbow. 'Guide me,' he said simply.

Swallowing, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated on a secluded place he knew well in Little Whinging.

With a crack, they disappeared.

Dumbledore looked around curiously. They had reappeared in a small copse of trees.

'This is a tight fit,' he commented.

'Well, it was bigger the last time I was here.' Harry muttered.

'And when was that?'

There was a long moment of silence.

'When I was ten,' Harry finally said sheepishly. A shift in the weight in his arms brought his attention to his clone. The little boy had relaxed the grip he had around Harry's neck and was looking around curiously. Harry was impressed with how well the boy was taking it.

The three emerged from the small clearing onto the far end of the play park that Harry used to frequent so many times in the past. Somehow, the condition of the equipment hadn't worsened since he had last been there the previous year. He wondered if the dementors had robbed Dudley of his desire for senseless destruction.

'Charming,' Dumbledore remarked, looking around at the vandalised and broken equipment. 'Will you be alright visiting your relatives on your own?'

'I have managed so far … I think I can manage one last meeting.' Harry said grimly. 'Besides, Vernon will still be at work.'

'If you are sure,' Dumbledore said uncertainly.

Harry bent down to his charge's level. 'I will be gone for a very short while. I will be back soon. Will you be OK here, playing with Professor Dumbledore?' he asked the boy. Getting a hesitant nod in return, he straightened up.

'He really likes you,' Harry remarked.

'It's a gift.' Dumbledore replied, smiling. 'Now, I suggest you hurry, Harry.'

'Yes, sir.' Saying so, Harry turned around and headed down the familiar path to Number Four Privet Drive.

As he made his way to the place he had spent most of his life in, he took in the sights one last time. He could hardly believe that barely a year back he was fighting for his very soul.

Harry smiled sadly when he came to the spot where he had first seen Sirius two years back. While he had come to terms with his godfather's death, it didn't mean that he didn't miss him.

All too soon, he was at Privet Drive. Walking to the house, he noticed Mrs Next Door, Aunt Petunia's neighbour and regular gossip partner. The woman stopped what she was doing in her yard when she saw Harry.

Harry quirked the side of his mouth into a smirk as he passed her by, making sure that his hand didn't go up to touch his neatly coiffed hair. Over the years he had found out a lot about this woman. He knew that she was a lot like what Madam Malkin was in the Muggle world. Judging by the way her eyes were roving over his clothes, he had a feeling that she had recognised good quality bespoke clothes made of high quality material and was curious about this new version of him that wasn't scruffy. Not for the first time, he was glad that he had his entire wardrobe done by Madam Malkin and that he had availed of the benefits that came with being the heir to a successful company that made good quality hair-care potions which not only made one look good, but were actually good for the hair.

'Hi Aunt Petunia,' he said with as much fake joviality as he could manage when he saw the woman step out of Number Four. He didn't have to turn around to know that Mrs Next Door was now intently listening in to this conversation.

Meanwhile his mother's sister was frozen on the top step of her house, the door still ajar.

'What are you doing here!' She finally hissed in a low voice when Harry reached her.

'Why, visiting relations of course!' Harry said in a voice that was so loud and jolly that his mother's sister actually cringed, glancing at her openly curious neighbour. With a saccharine smile he walked past her into the house. 'You might want to stay for a moment. I do have some lovely news to share with you.'

He dashed up the stairs and into the smallest bedroom. He took a moment at the doorway before pushing the door open and entering.

One glance around the mostly bare room told him that there weren't any of his personal possessions in there. Just to be sure, Harry looked through the wardrobe and then beneath the loose floorboard.

The only thing that belonged to him were a few stale Cauldron Cakes. He let that stay where it was in the floorboard. Hopefully it would cause the house some rot.

He debated taking some of the books that Dudley never read for Little Harry, but then decided against it. There was no way he was going to be letting his child touch that!

Harry froze a moment. Since when did he think of his clone as his child?

Shrugging he discarded that thought and made his way back downstairs.

He saw his aunt standing just inside the door, looking at him sourly, clearly waiting for some explanation. 'Well?' she said in a huff. 'Care to explain why you're here so many days earlier? Did they finally throw you out of that freak school of yours?' She gave him a once over suspiciously. 'What have you done to your hair, and where did you get those clothes?'

Instead of answering, Harry chose to give the hallway, the kitchen and the drawing room one final once-over. He paused for a moment at the door to the cupboard under the stairs, but didn't open it.

Curiosity satisfied, he turned to his aunt. 'I am leaving. For good.' He said abruptly. 'I thought I'd do the decent thing and tell you this myself. Not that you deserve any of that.'

'What?' his aunt snapped out, equal parts irritated and confused.

'I said that I am not going to be staying here any longer,' Harry said with deliberate slowness. 'See, my "layabout drunk of a father" as you called him had left me quite a bit of money. Enough so that even my children won't have to work for a day in their lives to live a life of luxury. You should have seen my bank balance. I have never seen such a big number in my life!'

'I have never called your father a layabout drunk,' Petunia said snippily. 'That was all Marge, I will have you know!'

Harry snorted. 'Is there a difference here?'

With that, he shoved past her and made his way to the front door.

'What about the wards?'

It was Harry's turn to be irritated and confused. 'What?' he said, turning around.

'Don't take that tone with me, young man.' His aunt snapped out. 'You know what I mean. The blood wards. That protection that your crackpot of a headmaster said would protect us from your lot.'

Harry's lip curled. 'Well, excuse me for being confused about incorrectly used words. The last I checked, nobody has constructed a hospital room around here for the sole purpose of housing blood samples, so I really wouldn't know what the hell you mean when you say "blood wards". If you are talking about the protections around this house, then yes, there was an _enchantment_.' He put special emphasis on the last word. 'Around this house cast by Professor Dumbledore based off the old magic my mother invoked when she died saving me. And quite frankly I can't be arsed to watch my tone around someone as undeserving as you. Especially considering that I am going to be shot of you the moment I leave this place.'

Furious, his aunt made to speak, but he overrode her. 'Regardless, that _enchantment_ is coming down. We've found a way to transfer it to a new location where I can reside in without having to deal with the likes of you and your family. So yeah, that _enchantment_ is coming down. Professor Dumbledore should be coming along soon to tell you about that. That is, if he decides that you are worth the trouble. You can be assured that I will be doing my hardest in trying to convince him that you really aren't worth any wizard or witch's time because quite frankly you Dursleys aren't worth the dirt under my shoes.'

'You don't get to talk to me that way!' Petunia screeched.

'Why?' Harry asked coldly. 'You think I should be respectful to you because of the fact that you are my mother's sister? You and your husband made it quite clear when I was growing up that I was unwanted. Now I am only returning the favour. And so I deny that we were ever related. I think that should make you happy. Also, the way you have treated me has put paid to any other reason I should even think of talking to you in a civilised fashion. In short, you don't deserve my respect. And so you aren't getting any … _Muggle._ '

At his words, his aunt recoiled half a step back, unnerved at the amount of loathing and resentment being directed at her through eyes that were reminiscent of her late sister. For a moment, it looked like Harry was going to start shouting at her, vocalising all the anger that was in his eyes. But he just snorted derisively instead, turned around, opened the front door and stepped out. 'Oh, and one last thing.' He said at the threshold, not turning around. 'My kind has ways of reaching out to loved ones from beyond the grave. My mother was kind enough to tell me that she and your parents were quite disappointed in you and how low you have sunk as a human being. She also told me that had your roles been reversed, she wouldn't have taken her feelings towards you out on your son like the way you took out your feelings of petty jealousy and inadequacy towards her out on me. And as proof, so that you believe that those words come from her and not from someone else, well …' he turned and smiled nastily. 'She told me about those pathetic letters you wrote to Professor Dumbledore begging to be let into Hogwarts. As if they'd let a Muggle like you in, eh _Tuney_?'

The stricken expression on Petunia's face was the last thing Harry saw of his aunt when he slammed the front door closed. It was something he was going to be cherishing for the rest of his life.

He snorted once more as he made his way off the property. '"Wards" …' he muttered to himself, shaking his head. 'What utter bollocks!'

'Productive visit?' Dumbledore asked Harry politely when the boy was within hearing distance.

'Yeah,' Harry said with satisfaction. 'Pretty much.' He had particularly enjoyed the small chat he had with Mrs Next Door (who he finally found out was called April O'Brien). He was right to think that the woman was very interested in where he got his clothes from. She did recognise good work and expensive material when she saw it. Harry made sure to tell her that he had come to Privet Drive one last time because he had finally managed to secure his freedom from his hateful relatives, and was now going to live in a house he had bought from his vast inheritance. The gleam in her eyes when she heard something this juicy gave Harry such a feeling of deep warmth, that he found himself sharing abridged details of what life was like for him there. He hoped that he had made social life difficult for the Dursleys in Privet Drive at the very least.

Dumbledore gazed at the surroundings. 'Well, the protection seems to have faded away.' He said slowly. 'I suppose there wasn't any need for me to come here.'

'Perhaps it is because I told Petunia that I no longer see her as family?'

Dumbledore looked surprised. 'You did?'

'What if I did? I am just returning the favour, to tell the truth, sir. They were quite clear when they said that I was an unwanted addition to their home when I was Little Harry's age.' Harry said a tad belligerently.

'It is your business,' Dumbledore said simply in a sad tone. 'I just never saw that coming. Now, I do believe there is a little boy who is waiting for you.'

Harry smiled as the child in question came running up, a big grin on his face.

Scooping the boy up, he looked at the play park properly.

'Uh,' he trailed off taking everything in. Not only was everything in pristine condition but also transfigured and charmed extensively. The slide for instance looked quite a lot like a tongue coming out of the mouth of a Hungarian Horntail.

'Don't worry about that,' Dumbledore said, casually waving his wand. Both boys watched in identical expressions of wide-eyed amazement as all the equipment noisily changed back to their dilapidated original forms. 'I had placed enough repelling charms to keep the Muggles at bay. They shall not have the pleasure of witnessing the miracle of a Wizarding play park. Which is a pity, this is by far the handsomest park I have ever made.'

They started to walk back to the copse of trees.

'I had the pleasure of encountering Professor Snape the other day. He had some rather interesting things to say about you.' Dumbledore remarked casually.

'How nice,' Harry said blandly. 'It's too bad I am not interested in what he has to say.'

Dumbledore only looked at Harry over his glasses.

'Why should I be interested in what the Death Eater who painted a target on my parents by telling his master about the prophecy has to say about me?'

Dumbledore stopped in his tracks. 'Harry –'

'I don't care,' Harry said quickly. 'As I told Snape. I am done with him. His anger at and hatred of my long departed father is not something I have any interest in dealing with anymore. It has turned him into this bitter, miserable, petty bully who just has refused to grow up. I came to the realisation that he is just not worth my time. Now that I can drop Potions classes, I am more than happy to be rid of him.'

'What of your aspirations of becoming an Auror? I do believe a Potions N.E.W.T. is needed for that.'

'What of it?' Harry asked. Ducking his head, he entered the copse of trees from where they had first arrived. 'Considering what I know of my financial situation, subjecting myself to two more years of abuse is just not worth it. I can always reconsider my career options. Quidditch might be fun, for one. Alternatively, I can find something else to do relating to the Defence Against the Dark Arts, or Charms or even Transfiguration. I do like those subjects well enough, and Professors Flitwick and McGonagall are much nicer. They certainly are a damn sight more professional than certain people.'

Harry turned on his heel, disappearing with a crack.

Albus looked at the spot from where the two boys had disappeared. He wondered how his student was going to take the news that there was a good probability that Severus wasn't going to be teaching Potions the coming year, seeing as the number of people willing to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts was right now at an all-time low.

Of course, that depended on him finding and convincing Horace Slughorn to retake his old position in the first place.

* * *

 **And here we are!  
**

 **Did you know that all those so-called "protective wards" aren't really mentioned in canon at all and are a complete fanon invention? I realised that myself recently...  
**


	14. A Series of Trips

Harry shook his head, trying to clear it.

'What do you think?' Dumbledore asked him from across the room, gesturing to the Pensieve that was between them.

'Well, it corroborates what I heard about two years back.'

'Oh?'

Harry snorted. 'I was treated to an abridged version of The Tragedy of Tom Marvolo Riddle in the form of a monologue courtesy of the man himself when we were waiting for his Death Eaters to come and witness me slipping through their great boss' clutches first-hand.' He rolled his eyes. 'Looking back I don't know what was worse, his waffling, or the follow up Cruciatus Curse … anyway, when did you get those memories, sir?'

'Before Voldemort first fell from power, I was looking for ways to neutralise him,' Dumbledore said, a faraway expression on his face. 'At the time, I thought that his boasts of having achieved immortality was nothing but propaganda in order to incite fear and attract followers. Regardless, I was not foolish enough to dismiss those claims outright. And so I began a project of studying the man known as Lord Voldemort. The best way to do that is to look into his past. Unfortunately, that was easier said than done, because he had gone to great lengths to erase any evidence of his true ancestry or his schoolboy days.

'Fortunately for my endeavour there are still people who knew of Tom Riddle, I being one of them. I used what little information I remembered to track down beings who may have had contact with Tom Riddle. The memory provided by Bob Ogden,' he nodded to the Pensieve. 'Was one of the first ones I managed to get. It was a year or so before you were born. Of course, we can only speculate as to what happened between the events we have witnessed, so it isn't a complete picture of Lord Voldemort by any means.'

'What about that House-Elf with the shifty name?'

'Ah, Hokey. Yes, I will admit I could have obtained that memory a little earlier.' Dumbledore, uncharacteristically, was looking a little sheepish. 'But in my defence, I was a little caught up with the repercussions of Voldemort's first downfall. I had thought him truly gone for nearly two years. Fortunately, a few chance conversations with the right people helped me see the truth. Regardless, I resumed my project post-haste and acquired Hokey's memory. At first, I had simply tracked down the elf because I had found out that Tom used to visit Hepzibah Smith many times. But once I saw that locket that you gave me…' He sighed. 'Morfin Gaunt's memory was the last one I had acquired a few months back. It took a fair amount of skill to find it, because it was buried so deep.'

Something in the story didn't add up for Harry. 'I thought you said that Morfin was found guilty of murdering Voldemort's Muggle family?'

'Indeed I did,' Dumbledore said calmly.

'But then wouldn't he be at Azkaban?'

'An astute observation.'

'But … but weren't you on the run from the Ministry a few months back?'

'I do recall being "on the run" as you say.'

'… So, you went into Azkaban when they were looking for you and trying to arrest you?'

'Naturally. It isn't as if I could ask Morfin to meet me!'

Harry sat there looking at his headmaster, impressed by the man's audacity. To actually walk in and out of a high security prison when you are a wanted man yourself took guts. That he did it undetected was quite impressive.

'As much as I enjoy talking about my past exploits, time is passing us by, so let's get back to the matter at hand.' Dumbledore said. 'Your discovery and subsequent destruction of Voldemort's first Horcrux, the diary, helped me figure out what arcane dark methods he had used to survive being ripped from his body. The information you later shared just a few weeks earlier did quite a bit to shed those memories I had collected in a new light.'

Harry nodded. 'The locket we found in Grimmauld Place was the one we saw in Hokey's memory. It was Slytherin's locket. He also had found Hufflepuff's cup, so that's one more Horcrux. I suspect that the Gaunt family ring would be a third.'

'Yes, he seems to have gone beyond conventional evil,' Dumbledore said softly. 'To create one Horcrux is bad enough…' he trailed off. 'The question is how many.'

'Seven,' Harry blurted out interrupting Dumbledore's train of thought before it had left the station.

'Sorry?'

'Seven. He will have split his soul seven times.' Harry was somehow very sure of that fact. 'One of those pieces would be Voldemort himself. So that would be six Horcruxes he has created knowingly.'

Dumbledore spent a very long moment looking at Harry piercingly. 'Why would you say that?' he finally asked.

'Well,' Harry began awkwardly. 'I have a feeling that Voldemort took Arithmancy. He does put great importance on numbers and dates, so it is quite plausible that he would either pick three, seven or thirteen. Of those three numbers, seven is the most powerful, magically speaking. And, seeing that we have identified three Horcruxes, that makes four soul pieces he has made if you were to include the bit of soul in his body. Also, making thirteen pieces would be, I imagine, quite risky.'

'How did you know that Voldemort took Arithmancy in school?' Dumbledore asked slowly. 'For that matter, I did not recall you taking Arithmancy as an elective…'

'Well, sir, I have been reading those textbooks you recommended after that meeting at Gringotts.' Harry said slowly. 'As for knowing about Voldemort…' he paused, in thought. 'I can't rightly say, but my gut tells me that he would have taken that subject. Also, the same instinct is telling me that he puts great stock in numbers and has created seven.'

'Curious,' Dumbledore said at length. 'You are right that he took Arithmancy.' He leaned back pensively. 'I think you will be right in guessing the number to be seven.'

'You know something, sir?'

'Well, not really,' Dumbledore replied. 'I have a suspicion that consuming that fragment of Voldemort's soul within you might have given you an insight into the man's mind via his soul. They can't be memories, that much is certain. I suspect, and mind you that this is just speculation, that you on some instinctual level know his thought process.'

Harry took a moment to digest this. 'I suppose,' he said slowly. 'After all, I did consume a part of his soul, something that makes him what he is…'

Dumbledore brought his fingers together. 'Let's test this theory. Where do you think he might have hidden those Horcruxes? And what do you think they are?'

Harry took a moment to consider the questions. 'There would definitely be one at Hogwarts,' he said finally.

Dumbledore nodded. 'I have considered that, but so far I have not found anything that might be a Horcrux.'

'No it wouldn't be somewhere common.' Harry said in a faraway voice. 'It would be in a place only he thinks he has discovered. He likes symbolism a lot, doesn't he, sir? He also likes to believe that he is one-of-a-kind. So any place he chooses will be, in his mind, a choice nobody else will think to make.'

'Well, he couldn't have put it in Salazar Slytherin's Chamber of Secrets, despite the strong symbolism.' Dumbledore said decisively. 'The timeline wouldn't fit, seeing as he had not acquired any of the other items till he was nearly finished with school. Besides, the diary seems to show a connexion between the Chamber of Secrets and his ancestry…' deep in thought, he extracted a memory from his head and put it in the Pensieve.

'The chances of him placing a Horcrux when he came to meet me to apply for a teaching post in Defence Against the Dark Arts are very high,' Dumbledore mused, settling back into his chair after viewing the memory with Harry. 'It was the only time he has set foot in the school after leaving it, after all.'

'The Room of Requirement,' Harry breathed. 'He would have kept it there.' Looking at Dumbledore, he continued. 'It is a room on the seventh floor that can become whatever you want it to be. I've been using it for my DA group. You even know of the place!'

'Oh yes, Dumbledore's Army!' Dumbledore said brightly. 'It does explain why nobody caught you till you were betrayed. I must say I haven't had the pleasure of voluntarily accessing this room.'

'I could show you right now,' Harry said, standing up.

'It is rather late,' Dumbledore remarked, looking out of the window.

'All the better reason for us to go now, sir,' Harry said excitedly. 'Nobody will be up to notice us.'

'What about your charge?'

Harry paused. 'Well,' he said after thinking for a moment. 'I won't be gone long, and he is asleep for the moment. I think I can leave him for a few minutes. Besides, Dobby can watch over him!'

On cue, the elf appeared. 'Harry Potter wants something?' Dobby asked brightly.

'Yes, I will be going out with Professor Dumbledore for a bit. I should be back soon, but keep an eye out for Little Harry. Tell me if he wakes up.'

'Dobby will do.' with a bow, the elf popped out.

Harry turned to the headmaster. 'Well, that's sorted.'

Dumbledore gave him a long unreadable look. 'Very well,' he finally said. 'If you feel up to it, then get your invisibility cloak. It would not do for us to be seen by any of the students. The Seventh Years particularly will be out and about celebrating the last day of their academic careers.'

Within fifteen minutes, the visible headmaster and his invisible student were walking through the gates of Hogwarts.

They did not bump into anyone, although Harry did hear some noise coming from the general direction of the kitchens when they passed through the Entrance Hall that made the headmaster shake his head and chuckle.

'Huh,' Harry remarked when he caught a glimpse of the hourglasses that recorded house points. 'Gryffindor have racked up quite a few points in a very short time.'

Dumbledore glanced back at the invisible form of his student and raised an eyebrow. 'You are supposed to be invisible, Harry,' he commented in a low tone.

He did not need to be able to see Harry to know that the boy was embarrassed at his slip. 'No need to apologise, I can understand your surprise,' he said in a low voice. 'After all, it is a surprise your fellow students will be experiencing tomorrow morning.'

As they entered the second floor where it was evident that there wouldn't be anyone nearby, Dumbledore spoke up again in a murmur. 'I felt it necessary to do a revision of the group my, ah, "predecessor" had created. As such, after a long examination of the points deducted and actions taken, I have felt that a dramatic change should be implemented. Every single point taken was reversed. That has led to quite an increase in points for Gryffindor House.'

'What about points taken from the houses of the members of the Inquisitorial Squad?' Harry whispered when they had reached the third floor.

'Well, they were given authority with the full expectation that they would abuse it. So it should not be surprising that they have done so.'

'But does that give them the right to abuse it?'

'Indeed,' Dumbledore said with a nod. 'It is a point that I am still pondering upon. I daresay I shall be reaching a decision by tomorrow when it is time for the House Cup to be awarded. You should rest easy with the knowledge that my response will be most appropriate'

'Well, here we are,' Harry said in a normal voice, whipping the cloak off. Without further ado, he started pacing in front of the wall three times.

Dumbledore watched with interest as Harry stopped, looked at the blank wall and resumed pacing thrice again. 'What is it that you are trying to do, Harry?' he finally asked after seeing the ceremony repeated another time.

'Well, sir, you're supposed to think of the type of room you want while pacing in front of it three times,' Harry said with a hint of frustration. 'That has always worked before!'

'Now that is wonderful!' Dumbledore exclaimed. 'A truly remarkable piece of magic! I recall coming across a room around here filled with an exquisite collection of chamber pots when I had a need for the bathroom. I do believe I mentioned that to you at the Yule Ball. Back then I had no idea … May I try?'

'Go ahead, sir,' Harry said, stepping aside.

Dumbledore walked up to the wall and gazed at it thoughtfully. Finally, after some contemplation, he started pacing.

'What did you think of, sir?' Harry asked when a door appeared after the headmaster's third pass.

'A room to hide things in,' Dumbledore said simply. He strode forward and opened the door. 'After you.'

They entered to find a large cathedral-sized room full of junk.

'Well, I certainly am not the first person to require such a room.' Dumbledore remarked mildly as he looked around.

'How are we going to find anything here?' Harry asked in equal parts dread and amazement. 'I don't even know if there is one here, let alone what it could be!'

Dumbledore hummed. 'You are sure one is here?' he asked.

'Beyond a doubt.' Harry replied. 'There is no other place he could have gone to in such a short time between entering the castle and meeting you and then exiting. He wouldn't dare carry a piece of his soul in your direct presence for fear of being discovered, so he'll have done it on the way in. This corridor is more or less on the way to your office from the Entrance Hall. He could just say that he was "taking in the sights" or some such nonsense if you were to ask. It also fits that this room isn't a well-known feature of the castle.

'Give me some time. I shall figure out a solution.' Dumbledore said confidently. 'Meanwhile, I trust you are keeping up with your exercise regimen?'

'Yes, sir,' Harry said dutifully, thinking of the various drills he had done this morning. It would be a long time before he was able to forget the gruelling physical training that Wood had drilled into the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Being a Quidditch player took quite a lot of work!

'Good, and have you started using magic every day and for everything, like I asked?' Seeing Harry nod again, Dumbledore continued. 'In that case, I have your first assignment, though a more appropriate word would be "challenge". I want you to start doing all those spells without speaking. Let me see if you can manage to weave magic in silence by the end of this week.'

Harry nodded decisively. 'Yes sir,' he replied as he took his cloak out.

Before he covered himself, a question popped into his mind. 'I have to wonder…' he began, the cloak unfurled in his hands. 'Did he really want to be a _teacher_ of all things? It makes no sense to me. I mean, educating kids isn't something I see him doing.'

Dumbledore hummed. 'I suppose we have come to a limitation of sorts to your new ability,' he remarked. 'You are thinking of what a teacher _is_ , Harry, not his motivation for being a teacher here. I strongly suspect that he wanted to be a teacher at first to _influence_ young minds instead of educating them. Also, I suspect he wanted to plumb the many arcane secrets of Hogwarts as well as tap into the ancient magic surrounding this school. There is a lot to learn from this old castle, after all. This room here is proof of that.' He gestured to the blank stretch of wall where the Room of Requirement was. 'I certainly did not know how it worked till you told me. At any rate, I doubt he would have stayed long.'

'Ah,' Harry said, considering the headmaster's words. 'Well, it explains why he bothered asking for the job again. Also, it does explain why he was not happy.'

'That is the least of my worries.' Dumbledore said with a dry chuckle. 'Lord Voldemort has never taken rejection well. So great was his disappointment that he actually put a jinx on the position of Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts. We've never managed to hold a teacher for more than a year ever since I turned him down.'

'Really?' Harry always thought that the position was jinxed, but this was the first time he got confirmation of the fact. 'Well, then … why not just hire a Curse Breaker to remove it?'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'If it were only that simple, Harry. The best minds in that field haven't been able to break the jinx. I would know, I hired many. I have even tried to change the name of the course itself, but alas it failed to work. Jinxes were quite a speciality of Tom's. I am beginning to suspect that the only way it will be lifted is if he does it himself or in the fortunate event of his demise. Now, I think we have spent enough time on this subject. It's high time you head back to your charge. Goodnight, Harry!'

'Goodnight, sir,'

As he made his way back home, Harry thought about the information Dumbledore had given him. As he prepared for bed, he finally concluded that there was no other solution for it that the headmaster hadn't thought of first.


	15. Catch and Release

Ron staggered as the Portkey deposited him to his destination, barely keeping his footing.

His sister wasn't so lucky. 'How did you manage that?' Ginny asked crossly, sprawled on the ground in a heap.

'Practise.' Ron replied smugly. 'Come on, get off your arse, we don't have all day.'

Not giving her a second glance, he headed towards the house that was a short distance away, shouldering his broom.

Grumbling, Ginny got up from her spot, picked up the basket of food they had been sent with and rushed to catch up to her brother picking up a much older broom as she did so.

'Nice digs,' Ron remarked, looking at the house in front of him. 'I can't believe Harry now owns a house of his own!'

'It is pretty,' Ginny said, looking at the surroundings. There was nothing but meadow that seemed to stretch for miles in all directions. The house was pretty too, a nice two-storied cottage with a sloping roof.

'I never took Harry to be the cottage type, though,' Ginny remarked. 'It's so … mature.'

Any further musing was cut short when the door opened and Fred Weasley poked his face out. 'You lot going to be coming in or are you going to be spending the time faffing about outside? Ordinarily I wouldn't care much, but I do happen to have a business I have to get back to and run.'

Rolling his eyes, Ron brushed past his brother. 'Where's Harry?' he asked.

'Outside,' Fred replied. 'Playing with himself.'

Ginny was the only one unamused by the wordplay. 'Boys' she huffed, rolling her eyes.

'Hey, Ginny,' Fred said a tad bit awkwardly. 'George and I, uh, got you something.' He thrust a package in her arms that was unmistakably a broom.

'Wow,' Ginny said, speechless. 'Thanks.' She opened the wrapping to find a Nimbus 2001.

'It isn't a Firebolt, but it's a good enough broom,' her older brother said. 'We've been thinking of getting you one ever since we saw you play last year.'

'Thanks, Fred.'

Fred just shrugged. 'Well, I got to go. Bye! Don't do what George and I would have done when we were younger!'

With that, he Disapparated.

'That is so sweet of him.'

Ron took a moment to process what he had just seen. 'Well, congrats on the new broom.' He finally said.

'What, no jealousy, big brother?' Ginny said teasingly.

Ron just shrugged. 'Eh, I have a nice enough broom, and you deserve a good broom after how well you flew last year. Besides, there are bigger things to worry about now.' He said sombrely.

'Yeah,'

The siblings lapsed into a solemn silence thinking about what had happened so far. Dumbledore had set things right during the Leaving Feast just two days back, taking an additional amount of points from the houses of all the members of the Inquisitorial Squad, much to the savage glee of three-fourths of the house in general (and Gryffindor in particular). However, that was the last bit of good news either sibling had heard since. Diagon Alley was all but deserted and the attacks were just beginning. There were almost daily attacks in the Muggle world, while a number of people were being reported missing from their homes. Florean Fortescue had been dragged out of his shop in full view of the public, leaving his shop in a mess.

'Also,' Ron said with a small smirk. 'I honestly can't be jealous over a broom that Draco Malfoy rides.' Laughing, he sped away from his scowling sister who was quick to give chase.

'Bloody hell, the kid looks just like him!' Ron breathed from his place at the threshold of the backdoor. He couldn't keep his eyes off the small boy that was flying on a child-sized toy broom as his friend Harry hovered nearby on his Firebolt, keeping a weather eye on the boy.

'Well of course he does!' Ginny replied, rolling her eyes. 'He did say that it was a clone made using his blood.'

'Still...'

Ginny didn't reply, staring intently at the scene in front of her. Ron wasn't too sure if she was looking at the full-sized version of his friend or the bite-sized version.

'Hey Harry!' she finally called, getting the attention of both boys.

A smile came on the older boy's face as he dismounted from his broom. His younger counterpart, however, was quick to land on his feet and dash behind the older one peeking from behind the teenager's legs warily.

'Hey guys, come on over!' Harry the older called out. Rolling his eyes, he reached behind him and tried to bring Little Harry to the front, giving up when the boy didn't budge.

'Hey, mate,' Ron said, slapping his friend on the back. 'Good to see you. How have you been? Hermione has been going spare worrying about you!'

'I know,' Harry said, punching his friend on the shoulder. 'She has been trying to drown me in mail.'

'So … enjoying playing with yourself?'

Harry gave the grinning ginger a sour look. 'That stopped being funny since the fifth time Fred said it.'

'Hi Harry, what happened to your glasses and your hair?' Ginny said with a smile. Looking down, she caught the gaze of a pair of big green eyes. 'Hi there,' she cooed.

The eyes disappeared behind Harry's left leg. 'He's cute,' She told Harry. Crouching down, she extended a hand. 'Come out, I won't bite.'

'Yeah right,' Ron snorted behind her.

'Don't listen to my brother,' Ginny said, still looking at the tuft of hair that was poking out from Harry's leg. 'He's a big idiot.'

It took a bit of nudging from Harry, but the toddler eventually came out from hiding, darted out, slapped Ginny's outstretched palm and dashed back.

Harry snorted. 'He must like you. That's the most he's ever done with anyone who isn't me. Or, come to think of it, professor Dumbledore. Oh, and my vision's been getting a bit wonky. Tonks took me to a healer and apparently its improving. Should take about a week or so before it stabilises. I can see better already!'

Just then the toddler pulled on Harry shirt. Crouching down, Harry listened with a bemused expression as Little Harry whispered something in his ear.

'What did he say?' Ginny asked curiously when the tot blushed and hid behind Harry.

'He thinks you are pretty.' Harry said, chuckling.

'Aw!' Ginny said. 'And you're cute too!' she said to Little Harry who blushed harder and tried to burrow his face further into Harry's leg.

'Mum did mention that he was very shy.' Ron said hesitantly. He too crouched down next to Ginny.

'Well, she is right.' Harry replied. 'Hey, how about we get into the air. This little squirt here is quite a natural.' He looked behind him. 'Why don't you show them your tricks?'

Little Harry beamed up at him and dashed to his toy broom, mounting it enthusiastically.

'Nice,' Ron chortled watching the boy fly about three feet off the ground. Mounting his own broom, he took off, flying high in the sky.

Eager to test her new broom, Ginny was quick to follow.

Harry watched them flying high, then turned his attention back to his clone. The boy was gaping at the two high flying teens with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

It didn't take long for Harry to figure out what the toddler was thinking because Little Harry started yanking on the broom handle with determination, fully intending on flying higher. Unable to increase the toy broom's altitude, he made his way to Harry, dismounted and pointed to Harry's Firebolt. 'Wanna fly up.' He demanded.

Harry raised an eyebrow, bemused. He weighed the pros and cons of taking a toddler on a racing broom.

Little Harry, however, felt that he was taking far too long in giving an answer. 'Up, now, daddy.' He whined, moving towards the broom as if ready to mount it on his own.

'Oh, no you don't,' Harry said, yanking the kid away from his precious broom.

'Hey, what's the problem?' Ron asked, swooping down and dismounting.

'This one wants to go on the big boy brooms,' Harry said dryly, his reflexes were more than up to the task of wrestling the three-year-old from so much as touching the Firebolt. 'It seems that he has just developed a thirst for open skies.'

'Ah yes,' Ron nodded sagely. 'I know what that feels like.' He crouched down. 'Want to come with Uncle Ron?'

The boy froze. He slowly turned towards Ron, looking at him calculatingly.

'You sure you'll be able to handle it?' Harry asked Ron with concern. He himself was entertaining the notion of taking the boy on a joy ride, but a small part of him that sounded a lot like Mrs Weasley was telling him that it wasn't safe.

'Of course,' Ron said easily. 'Bill has done it for me so many times! It's easy.'

Harry thought about it once more. On one hand was the Mrs Weasley voice (now joined by a Hermione voice) that was listing all the potential disasters that could happen, and on the other … well, there was the fact that Little Harry hadn't ever asked for anything. Also, the boy had never willingly gone toward anyone before. This was a big step.

'Fine,' Harry said slowly, releasing the toddler.

The boy hesitantly made his way towards Ron. Chuckling, the ginger got onto his broomstick and lifted the child in front of him.

'Ready?' Ron asked. With a hard kick, the two were off.

Harry smiled, hearing Ron's whooping mingled with the tot's laughter. Ginny also joined in the fun, flying circles around her brother who was clearly being as careful as possible by going drastically slower than normal.

Getting onto his Firebolt, he also took off. He decided to fly on a lower altitude, his wand within easy reach should there be any emergency.

* * *

'Mate, that's good food,' Ron said, leaning back with a satisfied groan.

'Thanks,' Harry said dryly. 'Your mother taught me a lot. Tell her thanks for the additional food too. I really like treacle tart.' He sank into his chair, just having put his clone to bed. The kid was out like a light the moment he had his fill. Harry knew, though, that by the time he turned in for the night, the toddler would be snoring away in the master bedroom.

'I thought I tasted something familiar about your cooking,' Ginny said thoughtfully. 'It's still great though.'

Harry smiled and casually waved his wand, causing the dishes to rise up and start washing themselves.

'How did you do that?' Ginny asked in wonder.

'With magic, Ginny,' Ron said, rolling his eyes.

'I know that, idiot.' Ginny said testily. 'I was wondering how he managed to do all those spells without uttering an incantation.' She turned her attention back to Harry. 'I saw you perform quite a few spells wordlessly, come to think of it.'

Ron turned to look at his best friend in a new light. 'Yeah, that's just like how mum does it.' he said slowly. 'How did you do that?'

'Remember when I mentioned earlier about Dumbledore agreeing to give me extra lessons?' Harry said slowly.

'Yeah,' Ron said slowly. 'Wait, that's it? I thought he was going to be teaching you some fancy spells!'

'So did I,' Harry said with a grin. 'But when I said something like that he told me that I needed to get the basics done first. Non-verbal casting is one such thing. We'll be learning it in sixth year. It's really tough. I have managed a few spells so far. Although from what Tonks has to say, I'm doing way better than she did when she was first learning it. It might have something to do with using magic every day.'

Talk then moved on to various other topics. Harry had some great stories about Dobby, Kreacher, and them comprehending what Little Harry was to Harry.

Ron started laughing uproariously. 'They think he's your _son_?! That's rich!'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'It was the easiest explanation. And it gets better. The kid's accepted that explanation too. He's started calling me "daddy".' He shuddered. 'Makes me feel so … _old_!'

'So where is Dobby anyway?'

'Ah. Well, professor Dumbledore wanted to borrow him and Kreacher for a few days.'

Ron grimaced. 'Hermione won't be happy to hear that.'

Harry sighed explosively. 'I wonder what she will do when she finds out that Dobby, her mascot for a new era of Free House-Elves has decided to work for me for free. Apparently "Dobby is not needing paying from the Great Harry Potter because working for the Great Harry Potter is the highest privilege."' He shrugged. 'And quite frankly I don't want to argue with him. From previous experience, I can tell that you put yourself between Dobby and what he wants at your own risk!'

They lapsed into silence.

'Hey, I did learn a fancy spell from Dumbledore,' Harry suddenly said. 'He showed me how to make an Age Line. I think I'll put one around my broom cupboard.'

Ron snorted. 'So the next time I come here, I'll see a three-year-old with a long white beard?'

'Nah, that's a separate jinx you can put into the spell. Dumbledore told me he was keeping Fred and George in mind when he put that one in. This is just going to act like a barrier, and keep him from crossing it.'

Ginny's eyes lit up. 'Oh that would be a great prank to play on Bill! Imagine an age line put outside his room that doesn't let anyone under thirty in!'

'Someone's testy because of someone else's fiancé.'

'Says the same someone who keeps mooning after that woman.'

Watching the siblings bicker, Harry shook his head. From the little he had gleaned from Mrs Weasley, both mother and daughter shared similar views about the woman Bill had decided to marry. Poor Fleur.

'So you didn't answer my earlier question about your hair…' Ginny said once she decided that she was done arguing with her brother.

'Oh, yes, that reminds me.' Harry said, snapping his fingers. Taking out his wand again, he waved it.

Two small boxes came flying into the room.

'Well, it turns out that my grandfather was the inventor of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion! So that means that I get a lifetime's supply of the stuff.' He indicated to his neatly styled head of hair.

'Ooh, I heard of that potion,' Ginny said, gushing. 'It's supposed to be able to tame the most untameable mop of hair, and applying it daily actually strengthens follicles and prevents baldness. It's really expensive though! Only one of the girls in my dorm has it and she's too stingy to share.'

'Yup,' said Harry. 'And as my friends…' he held out the two boxes.

Ginny all but squealed. 'Thanks, Harry!'

'Yeah, thanks, mate!' Ron said happily. 'I hear that applying it on the face promotes beard growth.' Eagerly, he opened the box, took out the bottle within and splashed out a generous portion of the stuff on his hands.

Ginny, meanwhile was busy examining the label printed on the box.

'Ron, you're supposed to use two drops,' she said bossily.

'I'll take it under advisement.' Ron replied dismissively massaging the potion into his scalp. 'I certainly don't want to end up bald like my dad, thank you very much. This hair of mine needs proper care!' taking another healthy helping of the potion, he started working it into his face.

'Prat,' Ginny said, still reading the label. 'Uh, Ron,' she said slowly. 'Um, I don't think you should use that stuff.'

'What?' Ron said, working the last of the potion off into his jaw.

'It says here that it's not recommended for redheads.' She looked at Harry apologetically.

'Really?' Harry asked. Taking the box, he read the label. 'Oh, damn, I didn't notice that. Sorry guys!' Just then he realised what Ron had done. He and Ginny looked at Ron worriedly.

'I'm fine, guys!' Ron said reassuringly. He picked up his box. 'See, it says that redheads get "unique results". Sounds a lot like a marketing gimmick to me.' As if to prove his point to himself, he got up and headed towards the drawing room to stand in front of the mirror placed over the mantelpiece, followed by his sister and very worried friend.

'See?' he said to his reflection, absently scratching his cheek. 'I'm fin – ARGH!'

Mouth agape, Harry and Ginny could only watch in horrified silence as Ron's hair suddenly started growing at a phenomenal rate till it was reaching his lower back.

But Ron's troubles were far from over, for a full red beard practically exploded out of his face, growing till it reached his waist.

There was a very long moment of silence. Whimpering, Ron slowly pulled a lock of long hair in front of his eyes as his other hand brought up the beard.

Ginny was the first to break. Snorting, she broke out into helpless laughter, holding onto Harry for support.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry,' Ginny said, between hiccups of laughter. 'But the results were certainly "unique".' With a supreme effort, she brought herself under control.

Harry, who was silent all this time, gave his friend an apologetic look. 'I'm so, so sorry, Ron.' He said gravely.

'It's – It's alright, Harry,' Ron said bracingly. 'I should have read the instructions first.'

'No, not that,' Harry said. 'Of course, I am sorry for what the potion has done to you, but I agree that you should have read the instructions. No I'm sorry for what I am about to say and do.' Taking his wand out, he transfigured a handkerchief into a pair of half-moon glasses that he then levitated on a confused Ron's face. Then he cleared his throat.

'Hello, Professor Dumbledore,' he said, barely keeping the laughter from showing through. 'Fancy meeting you here!'

Unable to keep it together any longer, Harry burst into laughter, shortly joined by Ginny.

'Oh ha, jolly ha!' Ron said petulantly to Harry and Ginny, who were leaning on each other for support as they laughed themselves silly. Crossing his arms, he looked a lot like a very sulky younger version of the headmaster, causing his sister and best friend to go into fresh gales of laughter.

* * *

David leaned back on the bench.

'I have eyes on the target,' he said softly. The charms that were on the newspaper that he was pretending to read allowed him to look through it while obscuring his face from the public, and more importantly, the woman he was tracking. It wouldn't do for their quarry to become suspicious.

'And I have eyes on you, son.' The voice of his partner came through the charmed piece in his ear. 'Waiting for you to move.'

'Like I said before, you aren't my type, Bert,' David said rolling his eyes at his partner's suggestive tone. Noticing his quarry begin to move away, he made a show of casually folding his newspaper and tucking it under his arm. Getting up, he picked up the suitcase that was part of his disguise and started meandering in the general direction of his mark. He kept his head down and his right hand in his trouser pocket, where he had his wand stashed, looking, or hoping to look like, a businessman on his way home.

His mark glanced around her before turning left between two houses.

David lengthened his stride, his formal shoes charmed not to make a sound on the cobbled streets. The old part of Edinburgh was full of tiny little streets underneath buildings called closes. It would be very easy for her to disappear there.

Reaching the corner, he cast a charm on the wall opposite him, creating a reflective surface.

He shook his head when he saw her just walking casually. She had not made him, and she wasn't really making any effort to hide.

Not for the first time, he wondered just why the Aurors hadn't been given the job of apprehending the rogue Unspeakables in the first place. Had that happened, then they wouldn't have to tramp around England _and_ Scotland following a cold trail for two days till they finally found this woman. He had met wilier first-time crooks than her! Those amateurs at the Department of Mysteries and the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol had royally bolloxed things up by losing her to begin with. Honestly, how can anyone miss a massive tunnel leading out of the house, or the so-called "secret entrance" that lead to tunnel?

With a tap of his wand he was disillusioned. Turning into the corner, he moved forward with light feet, making no sound as he swiftly closed the distance between him and the ex-employee of the Department of Mysteries.

A silent stunner had her down and out for the count. Rolling his eyes, he called his partner over. He really couldn't wait to rub this in their noses. They deserved it for sitting on this for two solid weeks before coming to the Auror office!

* * *

'Well?'

'Aurors Levin and Runcorn had found her in Edinburgh. Levin had followed her to a deserted alleyway that was underground.'

'Did he manage to capture her?'

A heavy sigh, 'Unfortunately just as Levin was about make his move to arrest her, a crazed Muggle jumped out of nowhere and stabbed her multiple times in the neck. She was dead before she hit the ground.'

Dumbledore frowned. 'A pity,' he said softly. 'What of her work?'

'Nothing was found on her body.' Croaker said heavily. 'We suspect it is still in its hiding place, wherever that might be.'

'That is unfortunate.'

'I'll say,' Croaker sighed again. 'Between her home in Christchurch, and then Roswell, Edinburgh and all the tiny little Muggle villages she visited in between, it's going to be a task to find it. What a mess.'

'Well, many would find solace that they only let one out of five get away.'

'Normally, yes. But when that one happens to be the leader of that damn project, there isn't much solace to find.'

Dumbledore shook his head. 'For the record, I did suggest involving the Aurors first.'

It really pained Croaker to concede to Dumbledore on this point.

'There is one other thing,' he said as the headmaster got up. 'When debriefing the rest before Obliviating them, I found out something about …,' he waved his hand vaguely, 'The specimen.'

'Oh?'

'Yes, the "boy" isn't human per se. While he does display some impressive feats of magic, and can comprehend and follow orders and directions well, and has displayed human needs and functions, it has been determined that he has no soul. He basically has no sense of self at all. None of the four we spoke to had any recollections of the boy even speaking to them or displaying any individuality.'

'I see,' Dumbledore's expression was unreadable.

'Yes. Also, they don't expect the clone to last very long despite it being the most successful specimen. They attribute this to its lack of soul.'

Unable to see the stony expression on his old Transfiguration teacher any longer, Croaker broke eye contact. 'I am truly sorry, Professor Dumbledore.' He said regretfully, looking at his desk.

'Is there anything else you wish to tell me?' Maybe it was his imagination, but the headmaster's voice seemed to lack any warmth. With a start he realised that it lacked warmth ever since the discovery of the project.

'Very well, then.' Dumbledore said. He swept out of the room.

It was only after he had left the Ministry and was in his office that Dumbledore allowed the worry to show on his face.


	16. Diadem, Sword and Locket

Hermione looked at the little boy sticking very close to Harry in fascination. 'He really looks like you!' She said, amazed.

'What did you expect?' Ron said next to her with a snort.

Rolling her eyes, she tried to get the toddler to come to her. However, Little Harry just didn't seem to want to consider coming near her, opting instead to give her looks of deep suspicion instead.

Ron sent a smirk her way. 'Hey, kid, c'mere.'

'Ron! He isn't a –'

Words failed Hermione when she saw the boy dash towards Ron, who chortled and took out a chocolate frog. 'Just a little bite,' he said, snapping off a foreleg and handing it to the child.

'He's used to "Uncle Ron",' Harry told her dryly. Noticing that Little Harry was looking at him questioningly, the piece of chocolate in his hand, he nodded encouragingly. 'Go on, give it a try. You'll like it.'

Personally, Hermione felt that Ron had bribed the child into liking him. Not that she was jealous. Nope, she was not jealous.

The toddler tentatively put it in his mouth. The look on his face was priceless.

Ron laughed. 'Looks like someone has found the wonders of chocolate frogs. Here,' he handed a fresh frog to the boy. 'Have the whole thing.'

Little Harry looked like he had been handed the greatest treasure in the world. Plonking himself on the ground near Harry, he started eating the chocolate, taking small delicate bites and chewing slowly. Harry wished he would show the same amount of care during regular mealtimes. He had lost count of the number of times he had to tell the boy to take smaller bites of his food. On two separate occasions, Harry had to save the kid from choking on fruit that he had swallowed whole.

'Are you sure that's a good idea?' Hermione asked, concerned.

'Hermione, relax!' Ron said, swallowing his chocolate frog. 'Let the bugger live a little!'

'Ron?!' Hermione hissed. 'Language! Remember there is an innocent little boy here who doesn't need to be taught inappropriate words!'

Ron rolled his eyes. 'Don't worry. He doesn't speak anyway.'

Hermione was not impressed by that statement, she turned to Harry, giving him looks that fully stated that he takes some sort of action.

Harry sighed. 'Fine.' He turned to the kid. 'Hey listen up.'

Blinking slowly, Little Harry looked up at him, chocolate covering most of his face.

Tapping the boy's chocolate stained nose, the brunette imparted some fatherly advice. 'Remember, you should never say these words…'

And then he started rattling off a long list of swear words, each more colourful than the last, carefully enunciating each one, enthusiastically helped by his grinning ginger friend. 'Never, ever, ever say those words.' Harry said once more. 'At least until you are as big as me... okay?'

The boy nodded very solemnly.

'Wow, that's some list!' Ron said, impressed. 'I didn't know you knew so many words, Harry. Did you, Hermione?' He asked the bushy-haired girl.

Turning, he saw that Hermione was frozen with an appalled look on her face. 'Oooh,' Ron said to Harry in an undertone. 'I think you broke her.'

'That's … not –' Hermione started sputtering. 'You two are _incorrigible_!'

'What, why?' Harry asked.

Hermione gave him an incredulous look. 'You are teaching a three-year-old _profanities!'_ She sputtered.

'Well, he was going to learn it anyway,' Harry said, rolling his eyes. 'Besides, I explicitly told him that he should _not_ say those words. When he gets older and can understand things better, I will tell him the meaning and explain it to him why he shouldn't be saying that ...' he trailed off, thinking about his words. '...at least, not in polite company.'

From long experience, Ron could tell from the silence and the apoplectic look on her face that Hermione was furiously mentally composing the words for the verbal thrashing she was going to be giving Harry.

'Did Harry tell you that he has learnt non-verbal casting?' he said before she could get started.

That effectively distracted her. 'What?' she said, looking between Harry and Ron. 'Really?'

'Yup,' Harry said with relish. Taking his wand out he cleaned the chocolate from the grubby three-year-old, and then conjured butterflies that he then charmed to fly over the toddler who started chasing them around the room, shrieking all the way.

'Impressive,' Hermione said. 'We will be learning non-verbal casting this year, and that conjuration is going to be in our Sixth-year transfiguration class!'

'Professor Dumbledore has been teaching me some.' Harry said. 'Right now, he wants to see how far I can go before moving onto more advanced stuff. Mrs Weasley's household charms also are helping, as is maintaining the house and cooking.'

Hermione had a starry look in her eyes. 'Private instructions from Professor Dumbledore ... I am so jealous!'

'Same here,' Ron said. 'Not about the work part, but about the magic you get to do outside school.'

'Well,' Harry said, looking between his friends. 'About that...'

He shifted to the edge of his seat and said in a low voice keeping his gaze focused on Hermione. 'Did you know the Trace cannot tell who is performing the magic when an underage witch or wizard is near an adult or someone who doesn't have the trace? It also cannot tell who is performing magic in a magical household … like this house. The number of protective charms that are around a magical property, coupled with the sheer volume of magic employed in various household tasks make that impossible.'

'Seriously?!' Ron exclaimed, his mouth hanging open as he heard this life-changing news.

Harry nodded at Hermione.

'Who told you this?' Ron said, the wonder still in his voice.

'I have my sources,' Harry said mysteriously, looking only at Hermione. 'Try it here if you have your wands.'

Slowly Ron drew his wand. Hesitantly he levitated the empty chocolate frog wrapper and set it down, waiting on tenterhooks.

'You mean to tell me that I could have used magic at my house and Grimmauld Place, especially when we were cleaning that horror of a house?!' Ron asked incredulously when it became evident that there were no Ministry owls coming. 'And mum made us clean it all _without magic_?'

'Imagine, Hermione, we could have used magic when we were cleaning Grimmauld Place all this time!' Harry said, pretending not to have heard Ron speaking at all.

Hermione would have told Ron to watch his language as the ginger started swearing up a storm, but she was too busy processing this information herself.

'Anyway, you can come over any time to practise magic if you want…' Harry said still looking at Hermione. 'As long as you keep it a secret. Mrs Weasley told me not to tell Ron and Ginny.'

'But you just told Ron,' Hermione replied, bemused.

'No,' Harry told her. 'I told you. Mrs Weasley didn't tell me not to tell _you,_ Hermione. Ron just happened to be, uh, eavesdropping without my knowledge.' He turned to Ron. 'Shame on you, Ron.'

'Ah,' Ron said, cottoning on. 'Yeah,' he shook his head, adopting a look of mock sorrow. 'I have a problem listening in on people's conversations … and dropping eaves.'

'What?' Hermione said incredulously. 'It's eavesdropping, Ron! That means listening –'

She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the look on the ginger's face. 'Oh, you did that on purpose didn't you?' she said accusingly. 'You know what eavesdropping means!'

'The look on your face was funny!' Ron replied with a wide grin.

'Arsehole.'

Hermione glowered at the two boys who were now laughing. 'I ought to hex the two of you,' she muttered.

'Say,' she said slowly, looking like she just saw Harry for the first time. 'Did you do something to your hair, Harry?'

'Ah, took you long enough to notice, Hermione,' Harry said with a smile. Waving his wand, he floated a box towards Hermione.

'My granddad invented Sleekeazy's Hair Potion!' he commented. 'I get a lifetime supply, so here's an early birthday gift for you.'

'Thanks, Harry!' Hermione said with a genuine smile.

'You're welcome. I got one for all my friends.'

'Oh? But Ron can't use it,' Hermione said slowly. 'He's a redhead.'

'Yes, speaking of which,' a devilish smile came on Harry's face as he looked at a steadily reddening Ron. 'Did Ron tell you about his "unique result"?'

Hermione could only blink owlishly as Ron got to his feet and bellowed, 'DON'T YOU DARE, POTTER!' at a laughing Harry. 'DON'T YOU DARE!'

* * *

'Professor!' Harry waved at the old man, just noticing Dumbledore standing at the edge of the property. He wondered how long Dumbledore had been standing there watching the two of them play.

Landing, he and Little Harry dismounted. Giving the kid his toy broom, he said, 'Why don't you go and play?'

Giving him a deeply unhappy look, Little Harry mounted the toy broom and started to drift off. His feelings about the drastically slow speed on clear display.

'I see someone has developed a love of speed and heights,' Dumbledore commented, amused.

Harry snorted. 'Ever since Ron took him on his broom, the kid has been insatiable. If it wasn't for that age line, I shudder to think what he would have done on my broom. I see him near it more often than not.'

'Perhaps I should look at your work.' Dumbledore offered. 'One cannot be too careful here.'

'Oh, that would be great sir!' Harry said enthusiastically.

'I suppose it is a good thing, though, that your charge is showing a streak of independence.' Dumbledore said, as they headed towards the house. Little Harry, bored by the toy broom got off and dashed towards Harry enthusiastically. Shadowing the teenager, he looked up at Dumbledore hopefully.

'He's developed a taste for chocolate,' Harry said wryly when Dumbledore noticed the hopeful looks. 'Ron's doing, again.'

'Looks like young Ronald Weasley has been quite an active part in the boy's life,' Dumbledore chuckled. Reaching a long fingered hand inside his robes, he extracted a yellow sweet that Harry had never seen before. 'Sherbet lemon?' he asked the little boy, holding it out.

Getting a nod from the teenager, the boy popped the bright yellow sweet into his mouth immediately pulling a face when tasting the sourness.

Harry watched amusedly as the toddler spat the sweet into his hand, looked at it, licked it, made a face, and licked it again. Deciding that this was a better way to have it, Little Harry continued in this vein.

'I've never seen those before,' Harry commented. 'Are they new?'

Dumbledore hummed absently. 'Oh, no, these are an old favourite.' He chuckled. Reaching into the bag of sweets, he took out a pair and unstuck them. 'Would you like to try?' he said, offering one to Harry.

Harry blinked owlishly. He had never been offered a sweet by an adult before, much less by the headmaster. 'Sure,' he said slowly, taking it and popping it into his mouth.

The next few minutes were spent in companionable silence as they enjoyed the sour flavour and settled down inside the house. 'So, did you find it,' Harry asked eventually.

Dumbledore, who was busy staring at little Harry, started. 'Oh, yes,' he said. Reaching once more into his robes, he took out two halves of a diadem and handed it to Harry.

Curiously, Harry examined the item. The diadem was old and tarnished. He squinted at the writing at the base. Joining the halves, he could tell that they spelt a sentence.

'The inscription was a quote Rowena Ravenclaw was reportedly fond of,' Dumbledore commented. 'Translated, it means "Wit Beyond Measure, Man's Greatest Treasure". You hold in your hands the famous Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw. It was supposed to have charms that increase the wearer's intelligence. It also ensured that anyone could read that inscription. Of course, now it is rather useless. Students, most particularly those that have been sorted in her house have been searching for this artefact for centuries.'

'Centuries?' Harry asked, awed.

'Indeed. Legend has it that it disappeared with Ravenclaw's death. I have no idea how Tom managed to find it.' Dumbledore shook his head wonderingly. 'Then again, he did have talent in spades. I still wonder how much society would have prospered had he not turned towards evil.'

Harry felt that the topic of what life would have been like with a good Tom Riddle was best avoided. So he decided to focus on a more pertinent topic. 'How did you find it anyway?'

'Well, I used the help of Hogwarts' House-Elves,' Dumbledore said. 'I must thank you for lending Dobby and Kreacher. They helped speed up the process.'

'How did you know this was it?'

'I had the elves reorganise the … material in the Room of Requirement into separate piles of similar items. Once that was done it was relatively easy to narrow down possible Horcruxes.'

Dumbledore turned one of the fragments of the diadem over his hand. 'Most of the room contained broken furniture and clothes. Knowing Voldemort almost as much as you do, I could eliminate those as he would have been least likely to use those items to house a portion of his soul. I started with the smallest pile, which was the jewellery. It was Kreacher who identified the Horcrux.'

'You managed to destroy it,' Harry remarked. 'What about the Locket? I forgot to ask…'

'I cleaved the diadem in two using the sword of Gryffindor,' Dumbledore replied. 'I haven't been able to do much to the locket, however. It seems that Voldemort has put thought into the protections surrounding the locket while the diadem was hastily stashed away.'

Harry nodded. 'He probably thought that he was the only one who knew of the Room of Requirement. Which is a completely idiotic thing to think. After all, how else did all that junk pile up so high?'

'Hubris could be a main reason for that.' Dumbledore replied. 'And he is not wrong considering that at the time, none but the elves knew of the existence of the room. Now, I have a theory as to how we can take care of the locket. And for that, I would need your help.'

'You need Parseltongue to open the locket, don't you, sir?'

Dumbledore nodded. 'That is correct. I must say, Harry, I am impressed with the speed you have been reaching your deductions lately.'

'Shall we get on with it then?' Harry said, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

'Yes I suppose,' Dumbledore said, looking at Little Harry thoughtfully. 'We could take your charge with us to Hogwarts. I think Fawkes might like his company.'

In a short while, Harry and the headmaster were exiting Dumbledore's office, having left Little Harry behind with Fawkes and a plate of biscuits and some of his favourite toys.

Harry carefully carried the sword, marvelling at how empty the school was. According to the headmaster, everyone had gone home for the summer and would only be back by the twenty-fifth of August. Dumbledore himself was packing up to leave in a day's time.

Harry personally couldn't imagine any of the staff having their own homes. He idly wondered what Snape's place of residence was like. Try as he might, he couldn't think of anything other than a deep underground cave full of bats.

'I think this should do it,' Dumbledore said, breaking Harry's train of thought. Looking around, Harry saw that they were a few yards away from the edge of the forest in a clearing.

With a few swishes of Dumbledore's wand, the locket was chained to the ground.

'Sword please?'

The headmaster levitated the proffered weapon till it was suspended, point down, over the locket. Harry was unnerved by how the locket was shivering in its restraints, as if it was trying to escape.

'Yes,' Dumbledore remarked softly. 'It knows its destruction is nigh. On my signal, Harry, I want you to open the locket using Parseltongue.'

'Right.'

Flicking his eyes over the whole arrangement, Dumbledore nodded at Harry.

Concentrating, Harry took a deep breath.

'Open,'

Upon his hissed command, the locket sprang open to reveal a pair of dark living eyes behind the glass windows.

Dumbledore didn't waste any time. With a flick of his wand, one of the two known relics of Gryffindor dropped down on the only artefact known to belong to Salazar Slytherin, impaling it.

A long painful scream came out of locket as a black mist oozed out of it.

Harry gingerly looked at the locket after everything settled down. What he could see of the stained silk lined insides of the locket around the blade of the sword were smoking slightly.

Grasping the sword, Harry yanked it out with a mighty tug. The dirt on the point of the blade told Harry that the sword had gone through the locket and into the ground. Sure enough, when he picked up the remains of the locket, he saw a hole an inch deep.

'Goblin steel is truly a marvel of goblin engineering,' Dumbledore commented. 'It is no wonder that they are keen to get back any and all artefacts made of goblin steel from humans using any means at their disposal.'

Harry nodded. 'So it is true then, what they say, "never trust a goblin"?'

'I cannot tell you whom to trust or not, Harry,' Dumbledore replied. 'That is a decision you must make on your own. I will state, however, that Professor Binns has a reason for his myriad lessons about Goblin Rebellions. Also, as I am sure you have deduced by now, only wizards are involved in investing and managing large fortunes. One asks goblins for help at their own risk.'

'Do you think Voldemort would know if his Horcruxes are being destroyed?' Harry asked as they reached the main doors of the castle.

'I doubt it,' Dumbledore said at length. 'His soul may be too mangled and abused for him to feel any sense of loss of a small fragment. Chances are that Voldemort won't know he is mortal till the time he finally meets his end. Not that it is going to be an easy task. He still retains his talents and powers.'

'Well, we have only three Horcruxes left,' Harry said, feeling a little bit of hope. 'Hopefully it shouldn't be too long to find them.'

'I suspect that he would have used that Cup of Helga Hufflepuff's which we saw in Hokey the House-Elf's memory.' Dumbledore said. 'It certainly fits with Tom's penchant for collecting trophies and his feelings towards this school. The symbolism would have been irresistible.'

Harry snorted. 'I wonder if he attacked me and not Neville because I am the heir of Gryffindor.'

'That might be a possibility, yes.' Dumbledore replied casually.

'Wait,' Harry stopped in his tracks. 'I am the heir of Godric Gryffindor?'

'Of course,' Dumbledore said with a frown. 'It _is_ an open secret. I thought you knew. The Potters haven't really made much of a fuss about that, to be honest.'

'Doesn't that entitle me to something? Part of the castle perhaps?'

Dumbledore let out a short chuckle until he saw the look on Harry's face.

'Oh, you are serious,' he cleared his throat. 'I am afraid not, Harry. You may sit in the Board of Governors later when you are twenty-five, but as the last living direct descendant of Godric Gryffindor, there isn't much else left to you. The Founders did not have much in the way of property that has survived all these centuries and generations of descendants. Although, you do get a nice plot of land in Gryffindor's birth place, Godric's Hollow where a certain monument lies currently. But this castle and the grounds,' He paused, his beard twitching and eyes twinkling. 'Was handed over by the Founders themselves to the headmaster of the school who holds it in trust till his retirement. Of course, I don't _own_ it in the traditional sense. The whole thing is rather complicated. But the gist of it is that no descendants of the Founders have any claim to this castle.'

'Oh,' Harry said, feeling somewhat disappointed. 'That explains how I managed to keep that house. I suppose I can claim it back?'

'That is something between you and Mr Bennet,' Dumbledore said diplomatically.

Harry hummed. 'What about the sword?' he asked suddenly.

Dumbledore paused in thought. 'Well, I suppose it does belong to you now,' he said slowly. 'I never really thought about it, to be honest. If you wish, you may keep it.'

'Thanks,' Harry said, hefting the sword. 'It will look good over the mantelpiece.' Not for the first time he marvelled at how light the sword was.

'Be careful,' Dumbledore warned. 'That blade is impregnated with basilisk venom, as I mentioned earlier. One nick, no matter how small, could prove fatal.'

Harry nodded. 'I'll be sure to draw another age line around the sword.' Calling Kreacher, he handed the sword to the elf who disappeared with the object safely tucked away.

'Headmaster, thank Merlin you are back!'

Turning to his left, Harry saw one of the past headmasters in a painting of a shepherdess who clearly did not like being shoved aside.

'Is there a problem, Dilys?' Dumbledore asked in concern.

'Yes,' Dilys Derwent gasped. 'I barely managed to escape from my portrait in your office … It's the boy…'

Alarmed, Dumbledore sped towards his office, Harry hot on his heels.

As they neared the gargoyle, a number of scenarios flashed through Harry's mind, each less pleasant than the last.

Taking two steps at a time on the moving staircase that lead up to the office, Harry was half a second behind the headmaster when Dumbledore opened the door.

'Oh my,' Dumbledore exclaimed.

Slowly drawing his wand, Harry peeked over the headmaster's shoulder.

The office was a mess. Many of the instruments were lying on the floor, broken, while sweet wrappers and parchment was everywhere. A look at the walls showed that the portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses were frozen with looks of outrage and disapproval on their faces.

And in the middle of this maelstrom was the headmaster's desk. Perched on it was Fawkes, contently pecking at some fudge. Noticing Dumbledore, the phoenix disappeared with a squawk and a flash of fire.

He left behind his partner in crime. Lounging in Dumbledore's chair and covered in chocolate was Little Harry who was in the process of licking one of his fingers till the phoenix disappeared.

Harry didn't know what was funnier, the chocolate covered toddler who was trying to look innocent (and failing miserably) or the look of shock on Dumbledore's face.

'It seems,' Dumbledore said at length, slowly regaining his equilibrium. 'That Fawkes has found a playmate in Little Harry here.'

Harry, who was expecting a rather negative response (after all, having your office so thoroughly taken apart isn't cause for happiness) was quite mystified by the cheerful demeanour of the headmaster.

* * *

 **My, that was quite a number of worried reviewers out there! I'd have thought that Ron looking like a younger Dumbledore would have got some laughs at the least...  
**

 **Anyway, a nice light-hearted ending for you this week!**

 **Till next chapter!**


	17. Matters of the Soul

Albus Dumbledore strolled out of the fireplace and into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, sparing a half-second's glance at the remains of the large fountain and the efforts of a small crew of wizards and witches in rebuilding it. The number of repairmen had gone down once the damage to the rest of the atrium had been taken care of.

With a nod, he swept past the security wizard and headed towards the lifts, his very presence ensuring that the crowd of workers parted in front of him. Somehow the lift he entered was empty of anyone else despite the large crowd and the queues in front of the bank of lifts.

He wasn't unaware that this attitude was partly due to what had happened just a few weeks back, with many feeling either guilt or embarrassment over being proved so wrong. However, he had other things on his mind at the moment.

He got off at level two. With long strides, he made his way to the office of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was clearly expected as the secretary waved him through.

'Albus,' Amelia Bones said in her loud booming voice as soon as the door closed behind him. 'Right on time as usual.'

'Amelia, good to see you as well,' Dumbledore remarked, taking a seat in front of her. 'I see you have a new secretary. I do believe he was in Hufflepuff the previous year.'

'I got him about three months back,' Amelia replied easily. 'The previous one wasn't working out so well. He was all looks and no brain. I was surprised he managed to finish school, to be honest. Hopefully this new one won't be as hopeless.'

'My dear Amelia, I think after all these years and these many secretaries you should know that looks and intelligence are rarely possessed by one person in an equal amount.' Dumbledore said, subtly flicking his wand and setting up privacy charms around the two of them. 'Of course, after all these years I think it is a safe bet to assume that you aren't really after intelligence when you hire a new secretary.'

Amelia shrugged. 'Wizards don't generally stay as secretaries as long as witches do, that is a well-known fact. Not that I have any cause to complain. I like the variety … besides, I am not nearly as bad as my colleagues.'

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. 'Well, considering that you run through a secretary once every year or so, I find that hard to believe.'

Amelia gave him a flat look. 'I am a professional, Albus, but I am not a monk. And I am only looking without touching. That is far better than what my colleagues do.' She clasped her hands in front of her and straightened in her seat. 'Now, I do believe you came here for a purpose other than discussing my secretaries, or our mutual interest in men. Or are you not satisfied with the five privacy charms you have put up in my office?'

'Seven actually,' Dumbledore said unrepentantly, stowing his wand back into his robes. 'I am impressed that you managed to spot those five in the first place. Few can do so.'

Amelia sniffed. 'Not all of us are paranoid Aurors. Now to business?'

Dumbledore coughed. 'Yes, I need a favour from your department, Amelia. I am interested in gaining access to the Gringotts vaults of a certain individual.'

The eyebrow over the eye not wearing the monocle went up. 'And who might this individual be?'

'Bellatrix Lestrange.'

'And why is the headmaster of Hogwarts interested in what a known and notorious Death Eater secrets in her vaults?'

'Well, I have been reinstated as Chief Warlock.' Dumbledore said modestly. 'I also have reason to believe that Bellatrix Lestrange has the Cup of Hufflepuff in her possession. If you were to check with the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol case files, you will find out that the Cup was reported stolen from the late, lamented, and long departed Hepzibah Smith.'

'Interesting,' Amelia said. 'But in that case, shouldn't an officer from the Law Enforcement Patrol do the search?'

'Normally I would agree. However, I happen to know the identity of the actual thief, and because of this, I think it best I do the retrieval and do it quietly.'

'Who could this thief be?'

'I have come across information that the last known person to have seen Mrs Smith was an employee of Borgin and Burke's, a man once known as Tom Riddle.'

'Why, might I ask, is some assistant working for an admittedly dodgy shop important here?' She asked after seeing the memory.

'Normally that wouldn't be much to go on. However, if you consider who Tom Riddle is, I would say there is enough to consider allowing me to handle this with the utmost discretion.'

'I don't follow.'

'Tom Riddle is the birth name of Lord Voldemort.'

Amelia Bones sat frozen in her seat. 'Ah,' she said finally.

'You are sure of this?' she finally asked after a long silence.

'I did introduce the boy to the Wizarding World, and later taught him transfiguration,' Dumbledore said softly.

'I remember an article that was printed and shortly retracted by the Prophet many years ago about his ancestry … I suppose it was true.' Amelia stated after another bout of silence. 'I don't think I want to know why this is so important then,'

'It would be best, in this case, that the least amount of knowledge is given to a very limited number of people.'

'How did you know that Bellatrix Lestrange has the cup?'

When Dumbledore did not give a response, she frowned. 'You spoke to her.' Her nostrils flared as she processed that information. 'I really must talk to Rufus to up the security around that witch before she is safely in Azkaban. I still do not know why he insists on trying to get information out of her. She is not going to talk at all.'

'I managed. Although, it was tricky. The techniques the Aurors are using to soften her up are working wonders. I had never thought that Celestina Warbeck's work could be so useful.'

'Few have your talents,' Amelia said dryly. Sighing, she dug out two official looking sheaves of parchment. Unscrewing the cap of an ornate gold plated ink pen, she started scribbling.

'That is a lovely writing instrument you have there,' Dumbledore commented.

'Thank you,' Amelia said, signing the first sheaf with a flourish. 'My brother got that for me. You still have that nonsensical ban on everything but dip quills at Hogwarts, don't you?'

'It builds character.'

Snorting, Amelia finished signing the second sheaf. 'That is what they all say when they want to mentally torture children.' She handed the sheaves to Dumbledore. 'The first one authorises you to act on behalf of my department, and the second is the warrant to search the Lestrange vault for the Cup of Hufflepuff _only_ and, should you find it, retrieve it. Of course, there is only one copy of those documents, so do be careful, Albus.'

'Naturally my dear,' Taking the documents, Dumbledore stood up. With a flick of his wand, all the privacy charms were negated.

'Oh, and Albus,'

His hand resting on the doorknob, Dumbledore turned around. 'Yes?'

'I hear that Potter is considering becoming an Auror after he finishes school. I think he could benefit from some exposure to the Ministry before that. Do let him know that I am open to having another assistant. I could do with another pair of hands here.'

'Amelia!' Dumbledore chided. 'The boy is barely sixteen!'

'Oh come Albus! Trevor outside is barely eighteen. Besides, like I said before, I'd rather look than touch. And it isn't as if he isn't going to benefit from working for me.'

'I shall pass on your offer,' Dumbledore said, with a touch of exasperation.

Amelia had a feeling that nothing was going to come out of that request. But that didn't stop her from thinking about it. The boy certainly was cute to look at.

Dumbledore had nothing to worry about anyway. While she did like looking at them (and occasionally fantasising about what they looked like in their underwear in various poses) she preferred the touch of a woman over boys or men. The male gender was just aesthetically pleasing to her.

Just then, the young man she liked to feast her eyes on hesitatingly entered her office. 'Ma'am,' he said. 'A memo for you from Mr Scrimgeour.' Suddenly remembering that her guest was standing right next to him, he turned to the headmaster with a blush. 'Good evening, professor.'

Amelia did not have to worry long about what Scrimgeour wanted from her, because just then a silver lynx Patronus burst into the room and halted in front of Dumbledore.

'The dementors got to Lestrange,' it said in a loud booming voice that most certainly belonged to Kingsley Shacklebolt. 'She has been Kissed.'

'How did this happen?' Amelia asked, frowning so heavily that the monocle dug into her eye as she read the memo. The minister, in his own waffling way, basically repeated the message Dumbledore had received.

'Your guess is as good as mine,' the headmaster said grimly. 'Bellatrix had a lot of enemies. Well, I leave you to your investigation.'

Amelia cursed into the empty office. They had just lost a very valuable source of information. Idly she wondered about who could have done this. Was it a Death Eater, trying to silence the woman before she cracked? Perhaps it was as Dumbledore said and an enemy of the mad woman … or perhaps it was an accident and a dementor had gone rogue. She looked down at the memo. Scrimgeour certainly thought it was an accident.

* * *

Neville entered the lobby of St Mungo's Hospital.

'Hello, luv,' the welcome-witch said from behind her desk. 'Where's granny?'

'She wasn't feeling up to it,' Neville replied. 'So I came on my own.'

'Ah, well you be careful now.' The witch said in reply. 'What with all the nonsense happening these days … just what was that idiot Fudge thinking anyway?' she shuddered. 'I'm glad he's out … I hope that bastard and that monster undersecretary of his gets put away for good!'

Giving a brief smile, Neville went past her. Climbing the stairs, he reached the ward where his parents were residing in.

'Hey, mum, hey, dad,' he said softly to his parents. Long used to their non-response, he continued speaking, talking about everything that happened the past few days. Considering that Fudge had just resigned and Umbridge had been carted away to Azkaban to serve quite a hefty sentence after a very tumultuous week of slander, gossip, outrage and anger, he had a lot to talk about. Eventually, the healer in charge of the ward left the room, leaving Neville alone with his parents. Well, and the other patients, but those wouldn't be much of an issue seeing as the Longbottoms were in a secluded area.

'I have news for you, mum and dad.' Neville said in a low voice, after he was sure that he wouldn't be overheard. 'Remember Bellatrix? Well, today I just got my revenge on her for all of us. I ensured that she got Kissed.' He paused, taking a shaky breath. 'I got her.' He said emotionally. 'I got her _good_. That bitch won't be around to trouble people any longer. I hope – I hope you get some peace knowing that.' He wiped glistening eyes.

The moment he had found out that Bellatrix Lestrange was in Ministry custody, he used some of the contacts his grandmother had built up over the years. Fortune was on his side when he got information that she was in a secluded location being guarded by some dementors and a small contingent of Aurors. Neville felt a sick sort of pleasure at what they were doing to the witch in an effort to break her. Being physically and magically tied to a chair for so long in a bright room as a host of Celestina Warbeck's greatest hits were played on an endless loop without being allowed sleep was too good for her, though.

It wasn't difficult to anonymously get one of the Aurors to "accidentally" leave the cell door unlocked long enough for a dementor to slip inside. Between the constant sleep deprivation and the restraints, she was practically served up on a silver platter for the monster to suck her soul out.

His contact assured him that the Auror in question had no idea who had paid him. Not that the Auror needed paying, the man was more than happy to do it for free. He still got a nice sum of money for services rendered. It was the proper thing to do, anyway.

Swiping a hand over his eyes once more, Neville reflected that he wouldn't have been able to do that if it wasn't for Harry. It was Harry's confidence in Neville that allowed him to think of something so audacious.

It helped, too, that Harry was also responsible for her capture. Sniffing once more, Neville said goodbye to his parents and walked out a lighter man, thinking of how he could show his appreciation to Harry.

He never noticed the momentary flicker of awareness in his mother's eyes, or the way his father sagged as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Frank and Alice died later that night in their sleep, finally having found peace.

* * *

It had taken two days for Harry to stop from shuddering at the memory of The Incident. Cleaning the toddler turned out to be one of the most memorable experiences of Harry's life, and not in a good way. The little devil had managed to get his hands on some of the lollies in Dumbledore's collection. The result was one very sticky child. Harry still had no idea how Little Harry had managed to get that stuff in his _hair_!

To top it all off, the boy was in no mood to cooperate at all. It was only by keeping a firm grip on the child that Harry didn't have to run after the toddler up and down the castle proper.

Unfortunately, that lasted only till they reached the house. The moment Harry had relaxed his grip just a fraction, the moppet had wriggled free and hared off, yelling incoherently all the way.

All of the running that Harry was doing every morning had not prepared him for the task of trying to catch a fast, hyper and extremely agile three-year-old. A small part of Harry noted that the boy was just as fast as he had been at that age when he was running from Dudley. Now the shoe was in the other foot with Harry feeling like his lumbering overweight cousin.

Of course, the difference here was that Harry was far more intelligent than his oafish cousin. It didn't take him long to figure out that the kid was running around in a large circle. All he had to do was stand and wait for the kid to just run back towards him before pouncing on the shrieking toddler.

That should have been the end of the whole thing, but Harry had one last lesson to learn. It wasn't a good idea to lift a toddler over your head after said child has eaten nearly his weight in sweets and has gone running around. Because all that results in the little demon vomiting right in your face.

Cleaning up had been quite an event. It still made no sense to the teenager that someone could get more hyper and stressed when tired. Somehow he had managed to wrestle the kid into the bathroom and get both of them clean.

Harry was quite tempted to give the kid one solid smack when the madly giggling boy decided that it would be a good idea to pull his pants down, and then point and laugh at the now fully naked teenager.

Harry just vanished the dirty clothes. There was no way he was going to bother cleaning _that_.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his musing.

'Professor Dumbledore!' Harry exclaimed upon seeing who was on the other side of the door.

'Harry,' the headmaster said with a smile. 'How is the little one? I trust you didn't have any problems…?'

A muscle beneath Harry's right eye twitched minutely. 'Nothing too big. Though, I suppose I should apologise for what happened.'

'Not to worry, not to worry.' The headmaster waved Harry's apology off. 'No lasting harm was done, and everything was easily reparable. Regardless, I daresay I have too many possessions. Besides, Fawkes is the main culprit here. It is I who should be apologising on my phoenix's behalf.'

'Yes, well, the demon is off sweets for at least a week.'

Dumbledore frowned. 'Has he become rambunctious off-late?'

Harry thought about it. 'Well, not really. What happened two days back was a one-off thing.'

'Then I think it's hardly fair to call him such a name. He is after all, a young child.'

Harry blushed at the rebuke. 'I guess,' he muttered.

'Now, I have some news for you.' The headmaster said. From his robes he produced a cup that Harry had seen before in a memory. 'The Cup of Helga Hufflepuff, retrieved from the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange.'

'How did you get that?' Harry breathed.

'I have my ways,' Dumbledore said mysteriously. 'So how about we destroy this Horcrux?'

The two of them made their way outside where the Cup of Hufflepuff which was turned into a Horcrux of Voldemort and kept in The Vault of Bellatrix Lestrange was destroyed by the Sword of Gryffindor.

'It's a shame that such priceless artefacts are being destroyed like this,' Harry said morosely, looking at the mangled remains of Hufflepuff's cup after he had run the sword through it.

'All things must end eventually.' Dumbledore said philosophically. 'But in this case, perhaps all hope is not lost. I have been able to restore the diadem and the locket to their former physical glory. Of course, restoring the enchantments on them might take some doing if that is possible at all.'

'That's nice,' Harry said with a small smile as he wrenched the sword out of the cup. 'Well, only two more to go.'

'You are right,' Dumbledore said. 'I think, and you will agree, that we know where they are, if not what.'

'The ring on Marvolo's finger and Nagini,' Harry replied with surety. 'That ring should be in the old Gaunt shack. That's the place where the magical side of his family came from. He wouldn't pick anywhere else.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'I have located the dwelling from Ministry records. We should have that Horcrux in our hands by tomorrow.'

'Can … _may_ I come with you?'

Dumbledore gave him a long searching look. 'Very well,' he said eventually. 'I shall pick you up tomorrow in the morning.'

'I'll make arrangements with Tonks. Little Harry is most comfortable around her compared to Mrs Weasley for some reason. Or should that be "least uncomfortable"?'

'He still hasn't warmed up to them?'

Harry shrugged. 'You and Ron are the only two people he will come near. He treats Fred and George with suspicion that I personally don't think is unwarranted and I think he is a bit intimidated by Mrs Weasley and Hermione.' He smirked. 'And he gets bashful around Ginny. I think he has a crush on her.'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Very well then, I shall see you tomorrow.'

* * *

 **Apologies for the delay ... I had issues accessing the internet.**


	18. Sword and Stone

Lacing his boots up, Harry gave some last minute instructions to Tonks, Ginny and Ron.

'Remember, the bugger is off chocolate and sweets for the next five days, so don't go giving him anything no matter how much he begs.'

'Sure,' Ron said easily. 'I still can't believe that you are doling out punishments. Man you are so grown up!'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'I'm doing it for my sanity, really. From now on he's only getting one chocolate on a Saturday.'

Ron gasped dramatically. 'Rules! He's setting rules!' causing Ginny and Tonks to start laughing. 'Looks like Uncle Ron is going to have to come to the rescue now.'

Harry smiled widely showing his teeth. 'Well, Uncle Ron is so nice, risking a hexing just to get his nephew some chocolate.'

'Man fatherhood has made you a grumpy old man.'

'Oh belt up,' Harry looked at his watch. 'Well, Professor Dumbledore should be coming any moment. You guys have fun! Don't let the kid on the Firebolt, and remember –'

'No chocolate or sweets,' the three chorused.

Harry blushed. 'Well, I'm off.'

As soon as he had shut the door, he saw the headmaster appear at the edge of the property.

Feeling a great deal of nervous excitement, Harry headed towards the old wizard.

'You have prepared,' the old wizard remarked, eyeing the sword strapped to Harry's back.

'I got the baldric about two days back in Whitby,' Harry said with a shrug. 'There was this shop that had a sword that was the same size as mine in this thing … I got rid of that sword. It was nowhere near the quality of The Sword of Gryffindor.'

'I should think so,' Dumbledore said with humour. 'Shall we?'

'Yeah,' Harry brushed his left pocket. The headmaster hadn't told him to get anything other than his wand, but he had taken his Invisibility Cloak just in case.

The two Disapparated and reappeared at a small clearing. A thick hedge separated them from a road.

'Now a few words before we set forth,' Dumbledore said a serious tone. 'I want you to follow my lead here. No matter what I say, you should do and do without any haste. Do you understand.'

Harry nodded.

'Understand this, Harry. No matter what. Even if my instructions are for you to leave me behind and save yourself.'

'But –'

'Do you understand?'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Yes, sir,' he finally said.

'Good. Now follow me.' Turning, Dumbledore made his way out of the patch of grass.

The passage of time had clearly made its mark on Little Hangleton. What was once a country lane in Bob Ogden's memory was now a tarred two-lane road. The wooden sign had been replaced by a modern reflective road sign. The sky, though, was just as blue as in the memory.

The impressive manor from the memory had fallen into obvious disrepair, the once immaculate lawns now overrun and the manor itself heading towards being a crumbling ruin.

Harry stopped to look at the graveyard. He had long deduced the significance of the place after he had seen that memory of Bob Ogden.

He saw Dumbledore approach from behind out of the corner of his eye. 'That's where he rose,' he said haltingly. 'Cedric died there.' It was funny how ordinary the place looked. All traces of what had happened that night were long gone now. Harry didn't really know what to expect, it had been two years since that time. Admittedly, he was looking at it from a rather great distance, so he couldn't really make out many of the minute details.

'Ah,' Dumbledore turned to look at the plot of land that Harry was staring at. He had long guessed the significance of the place, but chose not to comment.

'Let's go,' Harry said shortly, turning away from it. 'Let's finish this … and _him_.'

The entrance to the road leading to the Gaunt home was made nearly inaccessible by vegetation. It was only through a liberal use of the cutting charm that the two wizards could navigate the road at all. A part of Harry wanted to take the sword out and start swinging, but he desisted. It really wasn't that practical an idea.

Harry wasn't expecting the shack to still be standing after such a long time. The last he had seen it was in a memory of events that had happened more than seventy years back and it wasn't really in all that good a shape back then. He half expected there to be nothing but a pile of rubble.

And so he was surprised to see the structure still standing. While the roof and door no longer existed, the wood having long since rotted away, the four stone walls were still standing with gaping holes where the door and windows used to exist.

Dumbledore surveyed the area. 'The air is thick with magic.'

Harry nodded. The headmaster had trained him extensively in being able to detect and sense enchantments being cast on an area and the nature of the magic. He could tell with certainty that there was a lot of malicious magic cast here. Even after all these years, the trees still grew wild and free, blocking most of the sunlight. Harry lit his wand to see better through the gloom.

'Stand back,' Dumbledore said with an outstretched arm. Taking his wand out, he muttered under his breath as he paced the perimeter of the clearing.

'There aren't any charms cast at the perimeter.' He finally said. 'We can safely advance to the house.'

'That seems a bit odd,' Harry replied, making his way to the headmaster. 'I was sure he would have put as many charms as possible. I would have.'

'Ah, but you do not know of Voldemort's history as well as I do. I suspect that he was banking on the anonymity of the location.' Dumbledore said softly. 'He has, after all, gone through great lengths to bury knowledge of his origins. Few know of his birth name, and fewer still know of his relation to the Gaunt and Riddle families. I doubt, however, that we will be so lucky once we enter the house.'

They stopped once more right outside what used to be the front entrance.

'The doorway and windows are spelled to repel any living thing,' Dumbledore murmured. 'Those enchantments are too complex and varied to risk breaking down without alerting him. The doorway is also not a doorway either.'

He paced around the small abandoned dwelling. Since Harry wasn't told to stay put, he followed the headmaster. He noticed, as they circled to the back of the house, that there was a clear line around the house where the foliage just stopped growing. It certainly explained why nature hadn't fully claimed this structure.

'I do believe I have found our entrance.'

Harry looked at the wall uncertainly. With the light of his wand he could make out the faint carving of a snake set into the wall.

'It needs a password,' Dumbledore said helpfully. 'In Parseltongue if I'm not mistaken. So if you could...?'

'I wouldn't know what password he would have set,' Harry said nervously.

'Calm yourself, Harry,' Dumbledore said soothingly. 'And think. I am sure you can guess what he will set as a password.'

Taking a deep breath, Harry centred himself. As he let the anxiety he did not know he was feeling fade away, he began to realise things that he had not thought about.

Looking at the faint carving of the snake one more time, he suddenly realised what the password would be.

'I see you guessed right,' Dumbledore said proudly as a section of the wall slid out, leaving an opening. 'May I ask what it was you said?'

'Open,' Harry said simply. 'Voldemort would be sure that he is the only Parselmouth in Britain at least. And this is the same password used for the Chamber of Secrets.' He frowned at the opening in thought. 'Come to think of it, this set-up is kind of like the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room. Man someone's missing school a _lot_.'

'Such crude methods,' Dumbledore said in a disappointed tone. 'I have oft said that his arrogance will be his undoing. And with the way things are going, my words are proving to be prophetic. Now, after me, Harry.'

If the exterior of the house was dark, it was nothing compared to the interior. Thanks to the light from their wands, Harry could tell that they were in what was once, in another lifetime, the kitchen.

'Watch your step,' Dumbledore said, gingerly picking his way through the rotted floorboards. He stopped somewhere in the middle of the house. Holding his wand over his head, the headmaster intently scanned the floorboards beneath his feet. Suddenly his eyes snapped to a spot.

'An elementary notice-me-not charm,' the headmaster scoffed. With a flick of his wand, two boards were ripped out of the floor, revealing a golden box.

As the box was being levitated out, the general sense of uneasiness that Harry had not been acknowledging so far intensified to full-on dread. His heartbeat started quickening when the lid of the box slowly opened.

Perhaps it was the light reflecting off their wands, or perhaps it was because of the enchantments Voldemort had put on the ring, but the stone bathed the headmaster's face in an unhealthy green light.

'Professor?'

But Dumbledore did not seem to have heard Harry.

Harry did not like the way the headmaster was staring at the stone. The look of longing was alien on his face. Slowly, as if in a trance, the headmaster lifted his free hand up to the ring.

It was when he was holding the ring in his hand that Harry knew, beyond a doubt, that Dumbledore was intent on wearing it.

'Professor, don't put it on,' Harry said urgently. He had a horrible feeling that Voldemort would have accounted for someone having found this place and finding the ring and so would have placed one last measure of protection. A little piece of very malicious magic, just in case.

But Dumbledore did not give any indication of hearing him. Desperately, Harry did the one thing that came to mind.

'Expelliarmus!'

In his desperation, Harry had overpowered the spell, causing Dumbledore to go flying off into the wall as his wand and the ring sailed towards Harry.

Grasping the wand, Harry cringed away from the ring, nearly touching the thing as it skittered off about a foot away from him. Pocketing the wands, he drew the sword.

With a yell, he brought it down on the ring right at where the stone was set.

There was a long wailing screech as the soul fragment of Voldemort's housed within was evicted.

Breathing heavily, Harry prodded the ring with the point of the sword, half expecting it to jump up at him. When nothing happened, he slowly sheathed the sword.

A groan from behind reminded him of his companion. Whirling around, Harry rushed to his headmaster.

'Professor, are you alright?' he asked. Lighting his wand to better see, he looked the headmaster over.

'Well, this wall isn't soft,' Dumbledore said faintly as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. 'Nor is the floor for that matter.'

Harry blushed. 'Sorry about that,' he said sheepishly. 'Got carried away.'

'No need to apologise, dear boy,' Dumbledore said with a groan. 'Your intentions were noble. Besides, this is a minor discomfort compared to what would have happened if I had put on that ring. Although, perhaps next time could you use a little less enthusiasm?'

Laughing nervously, Harry helped the aged wizard up.

Shaking his head, Dumbledore looked in the direction of the ring. 'Is it –?'

'Destroyed, sir,' Harry said, pulling the wizard's arm over his shoulder.

The two hobbled over to the ring.

'No,' Dumbledore said softly when Harry bent to pick up the ring. 'Leave it here. There is no need for us to take it …' the old wizard stared at the ring for a very long time. 'No need at all…'

'Erm, right,' Harry said. He had a feeling that the headmaster had taken a real knock on the head. Perhaps a bit of fresh air would do the man some good. There was really no reason for the old wizard to sound nearly so … weepy about that ring.

With a hissed command, the portal constructed by Voldemort slid open, bathing them in the relative brightness of the blazing summer sun.

By the time they were out of that dreaded place and back on the road leading towards Little Hangleton, squinting their eyes against the sunlight once more, Dumbledore seemed to have regained his bearings.

Rolling his shoulders, Harry noticed, for the first time, that his wand felt unfamiliar somehow.

'Ah, I do believe I have your wand, sir,' he said, holding out Dumbledore's wand. In his haste to tend to the headmaster, he had taken out the wrong wand and hadn't noticed till now. 'Sorry,' he said sheepishly.

Dumbledore took the wand and examined it. 'No need to apologise, Harry.' He said gently. 'There has been no harm done.'

'Right, well…' Harry trailed off awkwardly. Now that the task was done, he had no idea what to do.

Dumbledore looked over his wand one last time and stowed it. 'Indeed, that leaves one final Horcrux.'

'And then he will be mortal.' Harry breathed, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

'It is not going to be easy,' Dumbledore said warningly. 'Nagini is well-protected due to her proximity to her master. I have a feeling that we will have to deal with those two at the same time. Additionally, Voldemort himself won't be easily destroyed. He still retains his power and talents.'

Harry stared at the graveyard unseeingly for a long moment. 'That isn't necessarily true,' he finally said. 'We can destroy the snake before engaging him.'

He looked at Dumbledore in the eye. 'At this moment, he thinks that all his Horcruxes are safe, with nobody knowing of their existence.' Suddenly a plan began to form in his mind at a speed so great that he had trouble following it. 'We could make it look like an accident or frame another Death Eater for the snake's demise. That way he may remain unaware of the destruction of his other Horcruxes. Not that it would matter … I suspect that should he find his insurance plan destroyed, he will be so angry that he will seek revenge. Of course, he will be confident that nobody will have ever found that diadem, so the chances of him going into hiding are minimal. His pride certainly won't allow it.'

'But that leaves the school open,' Dumbledore said pointedly. 'He is sure to go to Hogwarts as soon as he can to check. I wouldn't put it past him to use force, if necessary. This is part of his soul, after all.'

'Yes, but we know that he will go after the school. We can prepare. Hogwarts was built to withstand sieges, after all.' Harry licked his lips. 'We must act quickly, professor. The sooner the snake is killed the better. The moment he suspects that Nagini is his only Horcrux, it will become nearly impossible to kill her.'

Dumbledore hummed. 'That is not going to be easy,' he commented. 'We do not have ready access to Voldemort's place of residence.'

'But you do,' Harry said softly. 'Doesn't the Order have a spy in the Death Eater ranks? At least, a person who _claims_ to be a spy… killing a snake is a one-man job, after all.'

'Professor Snape would have to put his life at great risk.'

'But it isn't an unnecessary risk, professor.' Harry said earnestly. 'And from what I gather so far, Snape is a careful man. You don't convince two powerful wizards on two opposing sides that you are on their side if you aren't cunning. I am sure he will find a way to kill the snake and not only that but either pin the blame on another Death Eater or make it look like a tragic accident. Even if he were to die in the process, think of the lives we will save!'

'Ah, the "greater good" argument.' Dumbledore said, his voice sounding unusually sad.

'Very well.' The headmaster finally said. 'I will see what I can do. In the meantime, I must congratulate you on a job well done today. You might have very well saved my life.'

Harry blushed a little. 'I did what anyone would have done, professor.'

'Your modesty is endearing, but I highly doubt that.' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'Few would have shown such presence of mind or such courage. I am very much in your debt.'

'Thank you, sir,'

'No, Harry, it is I who should be thanking you,' Dumbledore replied. 'Now, I think you can Apparate back home. Go and rest. Have some fun with,' with a twitch of his beard and a twinkle in his eye, he uttered the next two words. 'Your son.'

'Dobby spoke to you, didn't he?' Harry said flatly. He sighed exasperatedly.

Dumbledore only smiled enigmatically in response.

Shaking his head, Harry bade his headmaster goodbye and prepared to Apparate.

'One last thing, Harry,' Dumbledore said, as Fawkes appeared over their heads and landed on his shoulder. In the light of the late morning sun, the aged headmaster with the magical bird on his shoulder struck quite an impressive pose. 'After recent events, I think we can dispense with formalities. I feel you have earned the right to address me by my first name.'

Dumbledore's words had floored Harry who somehow managed to Disapparate properly to his house.

Albus smiled sadly at the spot Harry recently occupied. The boy had grown so much, especially recently. It was always bittersweet to know that the students you first saw as children grew up to be adults. A part of the old headmaster wished that they could stay young and innocent forever.

With a sigh, he turned to look once more at the entrance leading to the Gaunt Shack. The temptation to return there was high. He then cast his gaze upon the wand he held in his hand. He knew immediately the moment he took it back from Harry that it was no longer his. Funnily enough, that fact wasn't as distressing as he first thought it would be.

'Let's go home, Fawkes,' he finally said, closing his eyes.

He would meet her once more. But it would be done properly with no shortcuts. Harry's experience had proved that such a meeting would happen one day.

Meanwhile, he had a lot of preparations to make, and one surly man to meet.


	19. Strike

Severus Snape walked towards the gates leading into the large manor owned by the Malfoy family, his mind in turmoil.

Baring the Dark Mark on his arm, he passed through the suddenly insubstantial portal and into the grounds.

The evening air was ripe with the petrichor of the late afternoon's much-needed rains. Until now, there was no cloud cover to save the earth from the sun's unforgiving heat.

All of that wasn't on Snape's mind. Today, his thoughts like his mood were as black as the night.

And it was all because of that Potter brat. Snape had thought that being proved so wrong so thoroughly and losing his oaf of a godfather would have injected some much-needed humility into the boy.

But he was proven to be wrong. In fact, so great was his arrogance now the brat had the temerity to _dismiss_ him as if he was a non-entity. He had not bothered to acknowledge his teacher, his better. That, more than anything incensed him. And that was counting the incident where the boy had breached his privacy by rifling through his personal memories.

Unbidden, a memory from a long time back played in his mind. Snape scowled at that, his mood plummeting even further. Every time he thought of that incident of Potter turning his back at him, he was reminded of that time, so very long ago, when _she_ had done the same. The look in his eyes was the same look of disgust that Lily had.

Unable to process this further, Snape settled on focussing on things that made him angry. It did a really good job suppressing the complex emotions associated with Lily's abandonment. Dumbledore, predictably, had taken the brat's side. While the headmaster had patiently listened to his complaints, and promised to "talk to the boy", he had, regardless, come back the very next day firmly on the boy's side.

Snape did not know how the headmaster knew of all the incidents over the years. Either the brat, his red-haired sidekick or the Granger chit had blabbed to Dumbledore, over-exaggerating everything as was their wont.

Come to think of it, that inept moron, Longbottom might be one of the other suspects, considering that his name had been mentioned too.

The end result had been a showdown between the Potions Professor and the Headmaster of the school. Dumbledore had actually issued an _ultimatum_ of all things!

Snape would have dearly loved to quit long ago, but he knew (as well as his employer) how essential his post was to the war effort. The moment he left it, his freedom of movement and his usefulness to the Dark Lord would be greatly diminished. That wasn't desirable for either Dumbledore, the Dark Lord or Snape himself.

And it wasn't as if he was completely incompetent. It was only thanks to his efforts that Hogwarts had produced so many exemplary O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, nearly beating the world number one in the subject; Castelobruxo. His predecessor may have been a favourite with many an old student of Hogwarts, but he wasn't as effective as Snape.

So what if his image was the form a Boggart took for a student? And what if he revelled in the usage of cutting jibes and cruel remarks? He wasn't their _friend_ or, (Merlin forbid) their _mother_ , or some such inane nonsense. He was there to teach, and their job was to learn. He most certainly wasn't there to dispense hugs and kisses.

Sneering at a peacock from behind his mask (Lucius Malfoy was every bit as insufferable as his insipid son) Snape turned his thoughts to the task he had been given for the night.

He personally did not see the point in killing off the Dark Lord's dratted serpent, but it was a task that was assigned to him, and it was what he would do.

Snape had carefully thought through his plan. A major advantage he had was that almost every single Death Eater had a motive for killing that legless lizard. Nobody liked the wretched beast, and was it not for the protection she enjoyed from their master, Nagini would have been the victim of an … unfortunate accident long ago. Lucius and Narcissa would have been at the front of that long list had it not been for the fact that the snake rarely bothered them and did not find Lucius' pompous peacocks interesting as food.

Not that Lucius was in any state to complain, seeing as he was gracing Azkaban with his august presence as an inmate. Thoughts of the haughty man wearing prison garb and locked up in a dingy cell lifted Snape's spirits quite significantly.

Quietly prowling through the expansive grounds, Snape did what no Death Eater dared to do: actively go looking for the great snake. There were no meetings as of this moment, the last one having been conducted yesterday.

While the gates had a record of his entry, they wouldn't be able to specifically give his identity away. The Dark Lord had ordered the Malfoys to modify all their security charms for the sake of simplicity. After all, Death Eaters came and went through the grounds almost every day. Only guests (basically people who weren't Death Eaters) had to identify themselves, thus alerting Narcissa of who it was.

That meant that while nobody knew that Severus Snape was on the grounds, they knew that a Death Eater had entered. And seeing as there were quite a few today (he had counted five others so far) it would be difficult to pinpoint the real culprit as long as he was careful.

Suddenly Snape stopped. A little ahead of him was the unmistakable form of Peter Pettigrew.

Sensing an opportunity, Snape slowly approached the man from behind, raising his wand. One silently cast spell later, the man was unconscious at Snape's feet.

Smiling maliciously, Snape cast the Imperius Curse. Tonight one more member of that accursed group of James Potter would die. And it would be by Snape's hand. He would make sure of it this time.

Standing over the rat, Snape reflected that he had ample reason to hate this cretin. Not only was he part of the group that tormented him in his childhood, but this person was the reason why Lily was dead, not to mention that thanks to him, the Dark Lord now had a body, making Snape's life hell. Oh, would he pay…

Restoring Pettigrew's consciousness back to him, Snape willed him to walk in front of him as they resumed their search for Nagini.

Thankfully, Wormtail knew where the snake was, having been tasked with looking after the thing (something Snape knew he hated to do with a passion). It was a short matter of time before Snape spied a large dark shape slithering on the grass on the hunt for prey that was probably non-existent by now.

Casting a disillusionment spell on himself, Snape then willed the weak man under his thrall to attack the snake. Hopefully the element of surprise would be enough to finish the loathsome reptile off.

Snape watched as Pettigrew cast the cutting spell that he had invented once upon a time with the Marauders in mind but never got an opportunity to actually use.

Suddenly the snake twisted out of the way.

Cursing silently to himself, Snape regarded the now hissing animal as it rounded on Pettigrew who so far was unaware that he was in any danger. He had underestimated the snake's reflexes.

The snake paused for half a second before lunging, fangs outstretched. It was at that moment that Snape realised that he had also underestimated the snake's intelligence. For the snake had completely ignored Pettigrew and had gone straight towards him.

Snape desperately dived out of the way, narrowly missing the fangs. Clearly the disillusionment spell was useless against the snake as it could easily detect him. Scrambling, he brought his wand to bear.

His focus on the head, Snape did not see the tail slam into his body, preventing him from effectively casting a spell.

Stunned, the potions master scrambled for his wand. He had just grasped the tool when he felt the two needle-like fangs sink into his body.

He blindly blasted the snake off him, sinking to the ground as the venom coursed through his veins. With a shaking hand, he pulled out a fang from his ribs, hissing in pain.

Feeling the darkness edging his vision, he blindly reached for a phial he had kept with him, thanking Merlin that Arthur Weasley had been bitten by the same snake. Without that incident, he wouldn't have been able to devise this antivenin.

Uncorking the phial, he opened his mouth to drink from it.

When he did not feel the liquid on his lips and tongue, he forced his eyes to focus on the phial.

With horror, he realised then that the container was empty. It had cracked open in the fracas.

Laughing wetly at the irony of being done in by failing to cast an unbreakable charm, he let the broken phial roll away from his hand. Unbidden, the incidents where he had taken glee in teaching his students (particularly one Harry Potter) a harsh lesson for failing to cast that very charm came back to him.

His head lolling to the side, Snape lost consciousness.

Nagini flicked her tongue at the dying man. Knowing she had felled the wizard, she turned her attention to her other target.

As Snape's eyes closed, the thrall of the Imperius Curse on Wormtail lifted.

Pettigrew came to just as an angrily hissing Nagini rounded on him, preparing to strike.

There was a small moment where he noticed that the snake was bleeding at the mouth, missing a fang. That ended when the snake lunged at him.

In desperation, he lashed out with his silver hand.

It was through sheer dumb luck that the artificial hand hit the skull of the snake. Voldemort had created the hand to be incredibly strong, capable of punching through thick stone walls. So the bone of the snake's skull stood little chance, caving in and killing the reptile instantly.

Wormtail stood, looking at the snake's corpse in disbelief. A thick smoke rose from the animal with an eerie screeching sound. Not that he paid any mind to that. No, he was occupied with thoughts of what his master would do to him the moment what happened came to light.

Peter then came to the instant decision that he must run far, far away. Perhaps if he threw himself at Dumbledore's feet, he may have a chance…

Suddenly, Peter remembered the words the Dark Lord had uttered when he had first bestowed upon him his new hand.

 _'May your loyalty never waver again, Wormtail.'_

With a thrill of horror, Peter realised that by agreeing so readily, he had entered a magical contract to not betray his master.

On cue, the magically constructed artificial hand flew to Wormtail's throat and started squeezing before he could do anything to stop it.

Struggling mightily to remove the hand slowly choking him, Wormtail sank to the ground, gasping for air, and desperately trying to plead with the hand using his thoughts.

It took him an agonisingly long time to die.

The hand wasn't done yet. It kept squeezing, digging into the flesh and reaching bone, till with a snap, Pettigrew's body literally lost its head.

* * *

Petunia Dursley gasped in pain as she collapsed to the floor clutching her face.

'Stupid Muggle,' the masked man who backhanded her said. 'Know your place.' He slammed the door open and walked in as if he owned the house.

'HOW DARE YOU TOUCH MY WIFE, YOU FREAKS!' Vernon Dursley roared, advancing from the drawing room, his fists raised.

He fell to the floor, screaming as the masked man's companion, a woman judging by her build and voice, cursed him.

'And what are you going to do about it, Muggle,' she jeeringly taunted him.

'Enough, Alecto,' the man said. 'We have a job to do. Just secure the Muggle. We will have our fun in due time.'

Saying so, the man flicked his wand, causing ropes to appear out of thin air and wrap around Petunia tightly.

'You're one to talk,' the woman muttered as she bound Vernon up.

'What? She tried to close the door on my face!' The man said indignantly. 'Especially after I was being so nice and everything.'

Even though he was wearing a full mask, Petunia could tell the man was leering at her. 'P-Please,' she said. 'W-we don't have the boy with us.'

'"We don't have the boy with us"' the woman mockingly repeated her words back. 'Like we will believe you, Muggle!'

'Could you get their spawn?' the man said in a long-suffering voice.

'Don't need to,' the woman replied. 'He's right there.'

Looking up, Petunia saw with a thrill of horror that Dudley was at the top step frozen in shock.

'DUDLEY, RUN!' she screamed at the top of her voice.

Laughing, the woman flicked her wand, yanking the boy's ankle and causing him to come crashing down the stairs. Recovering quickly, Dudley scrambled back, his hands automatically going to his behind.

'Where are you going, poppet?' the masked woman said teasingly. 'Mummy and daddy are right here!'

Laughing, she bound him head to foot, his hands now firmly planted on his bottom.

'My, he's a chubby one,' she said jeeringly. 'I've never seen someone so fat before in my life.' leaning over the terrified teenager, she ran a finger down the side of his face suggestively. 'I think the two of us would have some fun, eh, poppet?' she said, whispering in his ear. 'How about it? I doubt you've ever felt the touch of a woman before … I could educate you.'

'DON'T YOU HURT MY SON!' Petunia screeched, struggling against her bonds.

'Oh pipe down,' the man said, gagging Petunia with a wave of his wand. 'You will have plenty of time to scream later once our master is done with you.'

Petunia had very little time to wonder what he was talking about when a third man entered the house.

He was tall, skeletally thin with skin whiter than bone. He had wide red eyes with slits for pupils and a flat nose with slits for nostrils.

All three Dursleys stopped struggling and looked at the man. It wasn't just his appearance that had them stunned, but the pervasive aura of deep evil that came with him.

Petunia knew instinctively that this was the man who had killed Lily all those years ago. One look at Vernon told her that this man's presence had managed to silence him far more effectively than any one of those other freaks.

'My lord,' their two masked captors said, sinking to a knee.

'We have secured the Muggles, my lord,' the woman, Alecto, said unnecessarily. 'They put up minimal resistance.'

'I would hope so. After all, I would be very disappointed if a bunch of Muggles got the best of my Death Eaters.'

Petunia shivered at the high cold voice of the evil man.

'Of course, my lord.' Alecto sounded quite flustered by her leader's cutting words. 'I was merely reporting –'

'Stating the obvious, more likely,' the red-eyed man said disinterestedly causing her to stutter to a stop. His gleaming red eyes roved over the three of them before settling on Vernon Dursley.

'Oh my,' he said amusement colouring his high, cold voice. 'This Muggle isn't afraid of me. Such courage…' with languid strides, he approached Vernon. 'But then,' he said softly. 'This is courage borne of ignorance.' He laughed coldly. 'He thinks we are like Dumbledore's minions.'

The two Death Eaters chuckled sycophantically.

'Let me out, and I'll show you what I am made of, you freak!' Vernon spat.

The two Death Eaters stiffened, but the red-eyed man inexplicably laughed. 'Is that right?' he said dangerously softly. 'And what are you going to do, Muggle? Use that rifle of yours on me?' he scoffed. 'You could barely intimidate Dumbledore's half-breed oaf with that thing. What chance do you have against the Dark Lord?'

'Why don't I show you?' Vernon spat.

'Oh?' Voldemort looked at his Death Eaters. 'Very well then,' he waved his wand.

With a clatter, a box containing the revolver that her husband had recently bought after the dratted boy had left them high and dry floated down from their room.

Voldemort took the gun out from the floating box and held it up to the light. 'This is new,' he commented. 'What do you think, Amycus?' he held the gun out with his finger.

The thickset man lumbered forward, taking the gun. 'Nothing special,' he said taking the bullets and loading the gun with fluid movements.

'How many bullets have you loaded in there Amycus?' Voldemort said, not taking his eyes off Vernon.

'Six, my lord,'

'Six bullets, and only three of us?' Voldemort said sounding like a character from a bad western as he looked around him in an exaggerated fashion. 'Well, that isn't fair. But then we are wizards. I suppose we can allow the Muggle some advantage.'

Taking the revolver, Voldemort spun the cylinder and dropped it at Vernon's feet.

'Go on, then,' he said softly, banishing the fat man's bonds. 'Give it your best shot.'

Standing on shaky legs, Vernon picked up the gun and pointed it at the three wizards. With a yell he pulled the trigger.

Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow in disdain when nothing happened. 'You might want to turn off the safety, Muggle,' he drawled as the Death Eaters sniggered.

Blushing, Vernon hastily thumbed the safety off and then pointed the gun. Not bothering to aim, he let loose six deafening rounds right at Voldemort.

'Six shots fired,' Voldemort said, bored. 'And six shots all blocked.' Flicking his wand, he languidly disarmed Vernon. 'And that's what happens when you try to shoot a qualified wizard instead of an oaf who barely scraped through three years of school before being expelled. Not that it helped you then, either. Your bullets might be fast, but at the end of the day, they only come out of the muzzle as fast as you can pull the trigger. Us wizards can think much faster than that.'

Turning to his Death Eaters, he said. 'Can you believe that the half-giant managed to give his brat a pig's tail? It's the reason why he's clutching his backside!'

'No wonder he looks like a pig,' Alecto jeered. 'I wondered…'

'And now we have Petunia,' Pitiless red eyes pinned her to the spot. 'Your sister was a much better person. Naturally, having magic makes her automatically better than you, but she actually had the courage to stand up to me. Yes,' he said to his Death Eaters when they made disbelieving sounds. 'Lord Voldemort recognises bravery when he sees it.' He then smiled coldly. 'Of course, that didn't stop me from killing her…'

Petunia's eyes widened. How was it possible that her dratted sister managed to stand up to this inhuman creature? The very sight of him terrified her!

Crouching down to her level, he looked at her in the eye. 'I wonder if you have the same courage as she did?'

Before she knew what was happening, memories started to float past Petunia's mind at an accelerated pace. She wondered if this was her life flashing past her eyes.

'Evidently not,' Voldemort breathed. 'I suppose it is true when they say that all the good traits are seen only in one sibling. The sister of one of the bravest women I have ever met is nothing but a coward who can only bully defenceless children.' Leaning down, he whispered in her ear. 'And to think that the boy you deride so much is braver than you will ever be. If only you had shown him some kindness, he would have taken measures to try and protect you from me, he does have quite a noble streak, you know. But alas…'

With a cruel smile on his face, he stood up.

'I have looked into their worthless minds.' He said to the Death Eaters. 'They have no useful information for us.' He looked down at Petunia with contempt. 'I leave you to have fun with them. Show them what real wizards …' he looked at Vernon as he said this with a lazy smile. '… can do.'

Voldemort Disapparated, leaving his Death Eaters to have their fun, reappearing back at Lucius' house.

Voldemort was far from happy. When he had heard that Potter had left his relatives' house, he had been quite ecstatic. The boy was not as protected as he was before. He hoped to discern the boy's current location from those Muggles. He even hoped to use them as a bait to get the boy in his clutches.

He should have known he wouldn't find anything there when they found a disturbing lack of additional security. He had wondered at that at first, but after going through the woman's mind, he understood why.

It was blatantly obvious that the boy just didn't care about these people. At all.

It was a pity that he hadn't found out about the boy's home life before. He could have turned the boy against Dumbledore and Muggles too.

Voldemort tamped down the fear he felt when thinking of Harry Potter. That the boy had managed to survive the Killing Curse twice over was unimaginable! Either that Mudblood had done something more than performing that piece of old magic, or the brat himself possessed some talent or power that he was unaware of.

In hindsight, perhaps he shouldn't have tried to possess the boy. Especially so soon after that duel with Dumbledore. Thinking that the brat had died had clearly angered the old man. He had pulled out all the stops. Voldemort had barely managed to survive as it is. It was only thanks to the brat waking up that Voldemort had found some respite. Unfortunately, it had come with the cost of his faithful Death Eater losing an arm thanks to a well-placed blasting charm courtesy of the brat. He had not been able to resist trying one last time to mess with Dumbledore. He had seen for himself how open the boy's mind had been, surely possession would be even easier.

He had not even been able to penetrate the boy's mind, being rebuffed so violently that it had taken all his power to Disapparate away in time before the Aurors tried to attack him. It was unfortunate that Bellatrix was left behind.

It had taken a week to recover from his injuries at the hands of both those two dratted light wizards. Even now, he did not know what was worse, the physical injuries courtesy of Albus Dumbledore, or the psychic and mental injuries courtesy of Harry Potter.

Entering the grounds of the Malfoys' Mansion, he ruminated on one of his most faithful followers. He had yet to find her location or state of health. The damnable ministry had managed to keep her whereabouts under lock and key. Scrimgeour was proving to be a much more effective minister than Bagnold or Fudge.

No matter, his people had managed to locate Amelia Bones' residence and study all the weak spots in the defences. It was only a matter of time before Bellatrix was found and freed, and Bones dead.

His nostrils flared, belying his irritation with Bellatrix. He had long known that she planned on convincing him to conceive a child with her. Not for the first time, he scoffed at the very idea. Children were disgusting creatures, representative of a need to continue a person's legacy after that person dies.

An immortal being like him did not need to pass on his legacy! After all, what need was there to do that when one was going to live forever?

There also wasn't any guarantee that the cursed child won't just grow up to usurp him.

All in all, there was no way that Lord Voldemort would ever consider having a _child_ of all things with any of his servants, no matter how loyal, devoted or how useful they were to him.

Spying a Death Eater hurrying towards him from the side, he halted.

'M-my lord,' the Death Eater stuttered, an air of nervousness rolling off him in waves. 'I have some t-terrible news!'

'What is it?' he said coldly.

'It's Bellatrix,' the man said tremulously. 'News has just come in … she's been Kissed.'

Voldemort's nostrils flared once more. How had they found a dementor to do this without him knowing? As far as he knew, the creatures were still in Azkaban at his orders. The new minister was as much of an idiot and allowed himself to think that the ministry still wielded influence over them. He relished the thought of soon teaching them otherwise. 'That is quite bold of them,' he said musingly. 'Do Rabastan and Rodolphus know?'

'N-not yet, my lord.'

'Have them meet me in the drawing room.' Voldemort thought about how to handle this. 'Is there anything else?'

The man gulped. 'It's your serpent, my lord.'

Voldemort stilled. 'What about Nagini?' he said slowly.

'She's been killed.'

'By whom?' the words coming out of his mouth were deadly quiet.

'Either Snape or Pettigrew or both of them,' the man said timidly.

Not seeing any negative reaction coming from his master, the Death Eater dared to hope that he was going to survive this. Nobody wanted to be the bearer of bad news to the Dark Lord. But he had drawn the short straw…

He did not see the green light coming his way.

* * *

 **And here we go!  
**

 **A little late, but I just recovered from an illness.**

 **Well, we are coming to the end of this little story ... only a few chapters left!**


	20. Strike Back

Voldemort paced in the drawing room of the Malfoys' mansion, processing the news he had been given.

Bellatrix being Kissed was unfortunate but the loss was not that great. He would be able to have his revenge and make the Ministry rue the day they decided to do that to one of his favoured followers. He would ensure that no less than ten Ministry workers would lose their souls in retaliation.

It was the loss of Nagini that had him worried. It was quite clear what had happened. Snape had gone after the snake, that much was immediately obvious. Nagini would not have bitten the man so viciously if that wasn't the case. Wormtail, however … while the man was a proven coward the fact still remained that it was his hand that had crushed Nagini's skull. One look at Pettigrew's corpse showed that it was the failsafe built into the hand that had killed the man the moment he had betrayed his master.

What he did not know was the why. Why had Snape gone after Nagini?

Well, he was about to find out…

'How is he?' he said, barely suppressing the rage coursing through his veins.

'Stable, my lord.' The healer said respectfully. 'I have managed to purge his body of all the venom just in time … a second more, and it would have been too late.' He didn't find it necessary to mention that doing this in such a short time was quite a brutal method and was liable to have many long-term debilitating effects on the patient. After all, it wasn't as if Snape was going to be living much longer.

'Good,' Voldemort said smoothly. 'Bring him to me.'

The healer knew from experience not to argue or protest direct orders from his master.

Voldemort leered at the unconscious form of what he thought was his most faithful Death Eater. In his long fingered hands, he held a phial of Veritaserum brewed by the very same man. He could appreciate the irony of it being used on its creator.

'I trust he is rendered appropriately confounded?' he asked, without taking his eyes off Snape.

'As you ordered, my lord,' the healer said diffidently.

Both men knew that for Veritaserum to be truly effective, the victim mustn't see it coming, so to speak. Foreknowledge of it being administered was one of the truth potion's greatest weaknesses. It was the primary reason why it couldn't really be used to get confessions from criminals. An alert wizard could easily counteract the effects, especially when they possessed such strong will, which an Occlumens possessed in spades.

A few drops and a whispered spell later, Severus Snape was pouring out his deepest darkest secrets to the last person he wanted to be telling those secrets to who wasn't named Potter.

Voldemort steadily grew angrier and angrier as he heard the traitor's confession. It was clear that he shouldn't have trusted that greasy bastard (and his treachery really rankled). The question was what did Dumbledore have to gain from wasting such a valuable asset on Nagini. The old man did not carry out such actions on a whim. Snape certainly had no idea about the reasons for those orders. Voldemort had to give the old man some credit, unlike him, Dumbledore didn't trust this grease-ball at _all_. There were literally no secrets Snape had to share of Dumbledore or his dratted Order that he hadn't already shared when not under Veritaserum. The only things new were the actions this hook-nosed scum had taken behind his master's back, and his true loyalty.

Dumbledore had really played him well. It meant that all the information on the members of the Order were all false.

Speaking of which. Did Dumbledore suspect …?

He tightly suppressed the fear that coursed through his veins. There was no way he could have known. He had been sure to keep everything a secret. Even if Dumbledore suspected, he would not have accounted for the number of Horcruxes he had created. Even if, somehow, the meddlesome old man had found out, there was still the matter of the hiding places. He had been very careful of that.

Still, he had to be sure…

A light groaning caught his attention. Gleaming ruby red eyes snapped to the feebly stirring form of Severus Snape.

With a start, the man awoke. Black eyes that for so long were cold met pitiless scarlet eyes. Only this time, there was fear in Severus Snape's gaze.

'M-m my –'

'Silence, traitor!' Voldemort hissed in rage. Twitching his wand, he sent Snape sailing through the air and into the far wall where the spy landed in a heap with a groan.

'You've never felt my displeasure before, have you Severus?' Voldemort said dangerously as he approached the downed wizard. 'You are one of the very few of my Death Eaters whom I have never found cause to use the Cruciatus Curse on in the past. Not even when you came to me two years ago spinning your lies, no doubt at the behest of that old man. Well.' His eyes gleamed maliciously and his nostrils flared. 'Today is your lucky day!'

With that, he pointed his wand and hissed 'Crucio!' putting all his rage and anger into the curse. The high pitched screams of the man did little to alleviate his fury.

'I hope you liked that, Severus?' he asked silkily. 'Because you are going to be experiencing that and more tonight.' He turned to the healer. 'Take him to the dungeons, and tell Rodolphus and Rabastan that they have one night to do as they please with this man. I don't care if they whip him, burn him, disembowel him or make him eat his own genitals. He should coherent till dawn.' He turned back to Snape. 'Coherent enough to know he is being executed.'

He watched dispassionately as Snape was dragged out of the room. The two Lestrange brothers will be quite pleased to take out their anger on one of the men responsible for dear Bella's capture and death.

'My lord,'

'What is it Runcorn?'

'I have managed to break her my lord.'

'And did you learn anything interesting?'

Albert Runcorn had the look of someone who had indeed found something very interesting indeed. 'I have indeed my lord.' He said in a rush. In hushed voices, he told Voldemort everything he had learnt.

Red eyes gleamed in the darkness. 'This is very interesting news, Runcorn,' Voldemort said, pleased. 'You have done well.'

'Thank you, my lord.'

A terrible smile stole across bone white features. 'Your arm, Runcorn. We have a lot of planning to do.'

Pressing his finger on the Dark Mark, Voldemort's laughter echoed in the large room. Dumbledore and his ilk won't see this coming.

* * *

Dumbledore sat across Harry in the drawing room and looked at his student gravely. 'I have sad news, Harry,' he said at length. 'Your relatives were attacked last night. I am sorry to say that none of them survived.'

Harry was silent for a very long time. 'My sources say,' Dumbledore continued. 'That Voldemort himself was behind this attack.'

Eventually, Harry shrugged. 'I know I should feel sad … perhaps a little guilty,' he began. 'But I don't.' he looked at Dumbledore. 'It wasn't as if I had good memories of them and I hold as much regard for them as they did for me, which is to say none at all.'

Dumbledore did not look happy, something that Harry noticed. 'And frankly you felt the same way, sir. After all, you only found out about their deaths after the deed was done. I think if you cared more, you would have either relocated them to ensure they weren't found or put in some form of system in place to ensure that they did not come to harm.'

'You make a compelling argument, Harry.' Dumbledore said softly.

Just then a Patronus burst into the room.

'Death Eaters are attacking Hogsmeade,' it said in Lupin's voice. 'They are out in force; we need all the help we can get.'

Dumbledore got to his feet. 'Harry, stay here.' He said urgently. Just then Moody burst into the room.

'Albus did you get the news?' the scarred man asked Dumbledore.

'I did and I will be going there presently.' Dumbledore replied. 'Meanwhile, stay here and keep guard. We can't be too careful.'

'Constant vigilance,' Moody said with a decisive nod. 'Go, give them hell.'

'I will send word.'

'Hang on,' Harry said indignantly. 'I can come too. I want to help!'

The two old men exchanged glances. 'I am afraid not, boy,' Moody growled. 'You are going to be sitting this one out.'

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Dumbledore cut him off. 'Harry,' the headmaster said gently but firmly. 'I respect your talents and will be the first to say that you have improved in leaps and bounds. However, I must insist you stay here. No,' he raised his voice when Harry tried to argue again. 'Now is not the time. You are still untested in battle. It is one thing to be able to duel an Auror trainee in a controlled environment, it is another matter entirely to be going into a pitched battle. Besides, I am confident that the situation can be easily resolved. Also, you have other priorities now.' Bright blue eyes flicked upstairs pointedly. 'I also suspect that Voldemort might be trying to draw you out. After all, I haven't heard back from my … friend yet.'

Harry closed his mouth, considering what Dumbledore told him. If what the headmaster suspected had happened, then Voldemort either suspected or outright knew.

'Fine,' he said sullenly.

'Thank you,' Dumbledore said with a nod. With long strides, he made his way out of the drawing room and towards the front door.

'Be careful, Harry.' He said, turning around one last time. 'While I am confident in the protective enchantment, one cannot be too careful. Be ever vigilant. Wait for my signal and stay indoors.'

'Yes sir,'

'Good, oh and Harry?' Dumbledore waited till he had Harry's gaze. 'Remember, it's Albus.'

'Sure,' Harry said with a tentative smile. 'Albus,' the name sounded quite foreign in his mouth.

Harry watched from the doorway as Fawkes appeared over Dumbledore's head with a flash of fire and disappear with the headmaster.

'I'll go outside and keep an eye on the perimeter,' Moody said gruffly, taking his invisibility cloak out. 'Stay indoors with the kid.'

Nodding Harry wondered just what Voldemort was planning. This sort of tactic was not something he saw the Dark Wizard doing. He generally kept such attacks to the Muggle side.

* * *

A feral smile came on Rodolphus Lestrange's face when his mark tingled.

Dumbledore had joined the fray.

'Let's go,' he barked over his shoulder.

The eleven Death Eaters poured out of the shadows of Knockturn Alley and into Diagon Alley.

Rodolphus did not bother taking in the sights of the deserted alley. He and his men had a mission to carry out given to him specifically by their lord. Besides, now that Dumbledore had become involved, they had little time to carry out their task. He took a swig from the phial of energy potion he carried with him. Torturing and executing Snape, while fun was still rather draining. He had had very little sleep as it was. Still, he did not regret making the man scream long into the night. He and his brother had taken special care to follow all his master's directions to the letter.

Eventually, they had just left him to die in the dungeons. There really was no point in spending the energy to kill him, and they had work to do in the morning. Priorities had to be set, after all.

The Death Eaters prowled up to their destination unmolested.

Climbing up the steps, they paused when the golden doors ahead of them clanged shut.

With a gesture, four of the Death Eaters stepped forward and raised their wands, yanking the doors open forcefully with simultaneously cast summoning charms.

The silver doors inside fared no better.

'Hello, everyone,' Rodolphus said pleasantly, removing his mask. 'I would like to access my vaults, if you don't mind.'

The small assortment of witches, wizards and goblins who were in the bank recoiled as one upon seeing his face, all gasping in fear. Their terror was increased even more when the other nine Death Eaters fanned out, taking strategic positions around the bank, leaving Rodolphus and one tall thin Death Eater to stand in the centre.

'Now, now,' Rodolphus said as one of the Death Eaters subdued a security goblin who looked like he was about to try becoming a hero. 'There's no need to fuss. I just wish to access my vault, and we all shall be out of your hair. It's just business, after all…'

Slowly, one elderly goblin stepped forward. 'Mr Lestrange,' the creature said with a bow. 'Gringotts is always happy to serve its customers. Please, follow me.'

Rodolphus grinned. 'Excellent,' he addressed the crowd, 'In the meantime, my friends here will keep you company. We wouldn't want you to feel lonely, now would we? Lead the way, goblin.' Rodolphus nodded condescendingly, ignoring the resentful looks being sent his way. He knew his history. All those Goblin rebellions had rendered these bloodthirsty creatures toothless. Their goblin steel was no match for Wizard magic. Besides, their warriors had long died out, leaving only these weak things who had no recourse but to take care of wizarding gold in order to survive.

The goblin eyed Rodolphus' companion warily when they entered the tunnels leading to the vaults.

'Is there a problem?'

'Yes,' the goblin said blandly. 'I was under the impression I was taking only you, sir, to your vaults. Not any … companions of yours.' He glanced at the man next to Rodolphus as he said that.

The man in question cocked his head. Slowly, he lowered his hood and removed his mask, pinning the goblin with his red-eyed stare.

'I do believe Rodolphus has no issue with me being here,' Voldemort's high cold voice echoed in the cavern.

The goblin quailed under those pitiless eyes, but to its credit, managed to regain its composure. 'Very well,' he said at length. 'If you gentlemen would please step into the cart.'

Rodolphus privately thought that there was nothing odder than seeing the Dark Lord sitting in a Gringotts cart as they twisted and turned through the myriad corridors and tunnels to the Lestrange vault.

Voldemort sat with unnatural stillness, not so much as twitching as the cart careened its way down. Smoothly standing up, he got out of the cart, an expression of studied boredom on his face as he looked around.

Under the baleful glare of the Dark Lord, the goblin and the Death Eater hurried towards the dragon guarding the vault which the goblin swiftly tamed using the clankers he had bought with him.

Rodolphus bowed Voldemort inside the vault. The Dark Lord ignored the wealth on display, searching for one particular item.

'Where is it?' he finally hissed impatiently. 'Where is the cup that I had entrusted with you, Lestrange?'

'It should be right here, my lord,' Rodolphus said hesitatingly as he swept a mound of gold out of his way. 'I remember keeping it in this shelf right here.' He whipped around to face the goblin. 'Has anyone accessed the vaults before today?'

'I shall check, sir,' the goblin said slowly. It backed up and moved towards a telephone-like device that was recessed into the wall. Picking it up, he started speaking in rapid-fire Gobbledegook.

Putting the instrument back against its place, the goblin calmly walked towards the two wizards. 'I have spoken to the Branch Manager in charge of the vaults of ancient families, and he has confirmed that the vault has been accessed once in the recent past by a ministry official.'

'And he took…?!' Voldemort said, feeling a mixture of fear and anger that he did not show openly.

'Well, one item was taken,' the goblin said in apologetic tones. 'While Gringotts does its best to ensure client privacy, we are still bound by Ministry Law. The chalice that was taken was allegedly a contested item. You shall be glad to know, Mr Lestrange, that we ensured nothing else was taken.'

The goblin's professional tone and stoic façade would have been enough for a normal wizard, even one such as Rodolphus (who hadn't flown into rage yet). However, Voldemort was a different animal altogether.

With a cry of rage, the Dark Lord blasted the goblin with green light so violently that the creature's body violently exploded, dousing a shocked Rodolphus with goblin guts.

Just then, the dragon poked its head around the corner and roared.

That was all it got to do, for its life ended courtesy of a thin delicate looking black jet of light sent its way by Voldemort that pierced its skull through its mouth.

'Get back to the bank,' Voldemort snarled at Rodolphus, sounding a lot calmer now that he had vented some of his frustration on the dragon and the goblin. 'Round up the others, get everyone else and go to Hogsmeade. Lay waste to everything! I will join you shortly.'

'But m-my l-lord,' Rodolphus stuttered when Voldemort turned his back and strode away from the tracks. 'How will we get to the surface? Wouldn't we need the goblin to –'

With another cry of rage, Voldemort whipped out his wand and sent Rodolphus flying arse over teakettle into the empty cart they had arrived in. Another spell sent the cart careening back the way it came at double the speed.

'Imbecile.' Voldemort murmured under his breath as the last of Lestrange's screams faded away. It was a pity he couldn't kill the idiot yet.

Rising to the air, he flew up at top speed. Blasting a hole into the ceiling, he emerged into the building, scattering both bystander and Death Eater alike. Not paying them any mind, he blew through the doors and took to the skies.

* * *

He was angry when he reached the Gaunt Shack. He was furious when he left it. The ring, with its cracked stone seemed to mock him along with the golden box that was carelessly lying near the erstwhile Horcrux.

Blowing through the roof, a furious Voldemort wended towards the cave, fear and anger both driving him to speeds unheard of.

Seeing the fake locket with the note written and signed by a person who could only be Regulus Arcturus Black, Voldemort was no longer furious.

He was now apoplectic with rage.

He blew a massive hole into the side of the cavern, letting all the contents sluice off into the sea.

Taking to the air again, he considered his options.

He could join his Death Eaters and the allies they had gathered and finish Dumbledore off.

Or…

There was no way the old fool had found the Horcrux he had hidden in Hogwarts. He was sure of that fact.

So he could take care of one little matter before joining his forces.

Smiling maliciously, Voldemort adjusted his course.

Landing a short while later, he fished through his robes, thinking of what Runcorn had told him.

The Death Eater had kidnapped a witch the Aurors were trailing. What had aroused Runcorn's curiosity about this witch was that she once worked for the Department of Mysteries. His curiosity was further spiked when he found out that the Department of Mysteries was very anxious to get her, and yet, very tight-lipped about why they wanted her.

And so, Runcorn had stunned his partner and faked the woman's death.

Voldemort had not given much thought to his Death Eater's captive. After all, _he_ had no interest in _every_ single Muggle, wizard, witch, being or creature his followers decided to bring in from the road.

That all changed the last night.

A cruel smile came on his face when he found the metal rod that had been stashed away by Runcorn's captive somewhere in Roswell.

So the Ministry had created another version of the boy as an insurance against him, eh? And they were inept enough to lose it to Dumbledore who in turn was senile enough to allow the boy to play house with it! It explained how the brat had survived the second Killing Curse. Once he had those two dead, he will parade their naked mutilated bodies in Hogsmeade for everyone to see! Because there was no way he was going to be killing them using the Killing Curse. Oh no, he was going to be very thorough when killing Harry Potter now.

Bringing his wand tip to the metal rod, he started chanting. The rod explained why the Ministry wanted the woman back. It held the means to tracking their project down, no matter what protective charms were placed around that thing (and he refused to acknowledge that creature as another human being). It could also activate a little charmed piece embedded into the thing's forehead that would kill all protective enchantments around it.

The rod started vibrating, causing a thrill of excitement to flow through Voldemort. He took to the air, letting the device guide him.

Death was coming for Harry Potter. And this time he was going to ensure that both versions were going to meet their demise.

* * *

 **And now we approach the end, people. A nice little cliffhanger to tide you over till next week!**

 **Till then!  
**


	21. Creeping Death

**And now, the penultimate chapter of this little story of mine. Enjoy!**

* * *

It hadn't taken long for boredom to take its hold on both the boys after Dumbledore had left. While Harry was more than happy to read some of his textbooks, his young clone was raring to go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather.

The toddler had tried everything from begging to demanding before just giving up on asking for permission and just marching towards the door.

'Oh no you don't,' Harry said, leaping forward and snatching Little Harry away from the front door.

The next fifteen minutes were entertaining with Harry trying to prevent his charge from leaving and the toddler (now giggling) trying to find ways to slip out of the door.

That ended when Little Harry caught sight of Moody. One look at the grizzled old Auror's face sent the boy running for the nearest bit of cover he could find. There was no way he was going anywhere near the scary looking man.

Initially, Harry enjoyed the peace, not having to run around behind a toddler. But soon enough he too got bored.

Eventually he decided to innovate. He first started off with trying to teach Little Harry how to read. Cracking open the wizarding storybook he had bought quite some time back. He was surprised at how quickly the three-year-old was learning to recognise the letters and the sounds they were associated with. Soon enough, the boy was slowly reading aloud almost as well as Harry himself.

After a delicious lunch courtesy of Kreacher, Harry decided on a whim to clear the drawing room of furniture and set up a makeshift tent full of blankets and pillows. It had been something he wanted to do since he was a kid. Thanks to magic, the whole room was transformed with a large blanket over their heads.

But Harry soon found the fun waning. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that there was no news from Dumbledore, or perhaps it was the forced isolation, but a sense of restlessness filled Harry as the day wore on.

* * *

Voldemort touched down on a meadow somewhere in Northern Yorkshire. A glance at the metal instrument told him that he had reached his destination. The boy and the thing were in that house in front of him.

There was quite an extensive protective enchantment around the entire property. It was the exact same charm he had seen deployed on the boy's previous residence the previous year.

The charm here was much stronger, though. He could feel the heat of the magic even from here.

It did not matter. If what that woman said was true, then even this enchantment won't be enough.

Tapping the metal rod once more with his wand, he muttered a different string of words and then threw the instrument towards the house.

Instead of falling to the ground, the rod was suspended in mid-air, seemingly stuck on something. It rapidly started heating up red-hot and then white-hot till with a flash, it was gone, along with the protective enchantment that was placed around the house.

Voldemort laughed a high cold laugh. The woman had told him that the instrument would be capable of breaking through anything short of the Fidelius Charm. It looked like she was right!

He strode forward, an ugly smile of victory on his face when nothing stopped him from stepping over the boundary line.

* * *

Walden Macnair prowled through the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts.

He and his two Death Eater companions paused when they heard rustling.

'Aragog,' he said respectfully to the hulking large spider that appeared out of the gloom.

Unlike most other humans, Macnair knew that the word "Aragog" was a title, meaning "king of spiders" and not a name. It belonged to the largest Acromantula of the colony. That was, at the moment, the eldest son of the current Aragog.

'Human,' the Spider said, clicking his pincers.

'I hope you received my gift?'

'Yes,' the spider said, clicking his pincers. 'My father enjoyed the meal very much. It was a fitting last meal.'

Macnair smiled. The father in question was rather loyal to the half-breed oaf, unlike his descendants who only cared for fresh meat. It had been the main sticking point in getting the beasts on their side. Thankfully, this specimen was more than happy to betray his old and blind sire in order to become the next Aragog.

That was easily solved by supplying some poisoned meat.

The Death Eater bowed to the recently elevated Aragog. 'If you are interested, I have fresh human meat ripe for the picking. Just follow me, and remember: feast upon those not wearing our clothes.'

Aragog clicked his pincers loudly. In short order, a large number of his brothers and sisters came crawling out. Turning towards the human, he said. 'Lead the way.'

Macnair let a sadistic smile form on his lips as he led his new army out of the forest and into the fracas happening at Hogsmeade. Those Blood Traitors wouldn't know what hit them! And once the battle was won, those beasts would all be exterminated.

* * *

The human had no idea that Acromantula could speak silently. As such, he was unaware that Aragog had already ordered for his death.

The first chance the Acromantula get, they were going to turn on those masked humans as well.

After all, it was still fresh meat.

* * *

 _Something was wrong_ Harry thought.

As if agreeing with him, his clone stilled, freezing in a way that set the hairs on Harry's neck rise up. He didn't stay that way for long.

Yelling in shock, Harry sprang towards the toddler when Little Harry started shrieking in pain, clutching his forehead, blood leaking through his little fingers.

Mercifully, Little Harry passed out from the pain before Harry could reach him. Looking at the child's forehead, Harry cast a spell to wipe out the dried blood. He was shocked to find a lightning shaped cut on the boy's forehead in the same shape and location as Harry's own scar. A small fragment of unknown material fell out of the wound, smoking slightly. It did not stay long, dissolving into smoke.

Just then a great boom resonated throughout, shaking the whole house to its foundations. Harry whipped his head towards the nearest window.

A cold chill went down his spine when he saw the pale form of Voldemort approaching their house, the summer sun glinting off his bald head. It was all too clear what had happened. The people in the Department of Mysteries responsible for Little Harry's creation had put in some form of insurance to make sure that they did not lose their experiment. And Voldemort had somehow managed to get his hands on that insurance.

Clutching the unconscious infant in his arms, Harry dashed upstairs. Over the course of the past few weeks ever since he had moved in, he had converted one of the two guest bedrooms into a sort of playroom for Little Harry. Placing the unconscious boy there, he dashed back to his room. Retrieving the Invisibility Cloak that was passed down by his father, he returned to the playroom and threw the cloak over the toddler, tucking it in around the boy's body and trying not to think that he was passing it down for good to Little Harry.

Hopefully, if the worst came to pass, Voldemort wouldn't notice the boy.

He knew that a locked door would alert the dark wizard, so he left it ajar. Heading towards his own room, he opened the window and arranged it to look like he had levitated the boy out of it. Hopefully by the time Voldemort was done searching the countryside and the cliff, his clone would have a chance to escape. Stepping out, he locked the door with the strongest locking charms he knew.

Taking a deep breath, he cast a Patronus.

'Tell Dumbledore we are under attack. Voldemort is here.' Harry said as clearly and calmly as he could.

Once the ethereal stag had disappeared, he took a deep breath and steeled himself.

Outside, Voldemort and Moody were locked in a fierce battle. The old Auror was tough, having learnt ways to compensate for his disabilities. He had managed to get the first hit in too, something that incensed the Dark Lord.

At the end of the day, Moody was no match for the most terrible Dark Lord in history. With a snarl, Voldemort fired off a curse that impacted the ex-Auror's prosthetic leg, shattering it. As soon as his opponent was down, Voldemort snapped off a powerful spell that tore through Moody's hastily erected shield and then his head.

Wand smoking slightly, Voldemort stepped over the corpse and headed towards the house. He grimly exchanged his trusty phoenix feather wand for Draco Malfoy's wand. There was not going to be anything saving the boy today!

'Come out and play, Harry!' He said mockingly a few feet from the front door. 'Maybe I will give you a swift death!'

Laughing the whole way, he approached the front door and blew it off its hinges.

'Where are you, Harry?' he asked in a mockingly sweet voice. 'This is no way to treat a guest in your house…'

He first came upon the drawing room. His lipless mouth curled at the sight of numerous pillows and blankets strewn about.

'My, my,' he said loudly. 'Such a messy house! What was Dumbledore thinking letting a child live on his own?'

He was in the middle of the room when suddenly everything rose up and started attacking him.

Voldemort managed to blast the first pillow out of the way, surprised momentarily to note that it had been hardened to stone. Clearly the boy had prepared.

Showing a surprising level of athleticism that belied his age, the dark lord twisted, dodged and deflected all the projectiles headed his way. Soon enough he was standing in the middle of a sea of detritus.

'How nice of you to prepare a welcome for me, Harry,' Voldemort said casually, tapping his left shoulder with his wand to numb it. He had not come out of this unscathed, being winged by a rather hard pillow. It was certainly going to leave a bruise.

'Oh no you don't,' he said, vanishing the blankets when they reared up to attack. For good measure, he blasted the rest of the furniture to pieces.

Leaving the room, he headed towards the stairs. He placed a foot on the bottom stair and immediately pivoted and stepped to the right. Just in time to catch the speeding kitchen knife with his forearm.

Snarling, Voldemort removed the knife and healed the cut. 'Come out and fight me boy, I grow tired of fighting inanimate objects ineptly charmed by an average O.W.L. student!'

As if answering his demands, he felt a surge of magic coming from behind him. Whirling around, he swiftly countered and shielded the myriad of spells that were raining down from the landing on the top.

The boy had the advantage of height enabling him to push Voldemort back into the drawing room, Harry following him.

Being much younger, Harry had the added stamina to keep up a constant barrage of spells. Voldemort, though, could match Harry in power. He used his long experience to ride out the initial wave of fury coming at him.

'Not bad,' he said when Harry slowed down and stopped. 'I see you have been practising since the last time we duelled. I must commend you for managing to cast everything silently. This should make it more fun this time.'

Not answering, Harry Disapparated. Smiling gleefully, Voldemort whirled around and snapped out a spell. His timing was impeccable and the spell impacted the boy the moment he reappeared.

'Well, now isn't that a surprise!' Voldemort said mockingly. 'Apparition at such a young age! Harry, I am so proud of you. Even I had not managed that at fifteen years.' Then he shook his head sorrowfully. 'Unfortunately, predictability is your enemy here. It has allowed me to successfully cast an anti-Disapparition jinx on you. Which is good, all things considered … We can't have you running off, can we?' Twirling his wand in his fingers, he continued talking in a disappointed tone. 'You should have used the opportunity to run away in the first place.'

'I'm not running away from you,' Harry spat. 'I'm going to end this once and for all.'

'Not going to hide behind others, Harry?' Voldemort asked mockingly.

'Well, it's only fair.' Harry said in reply. 'You can't hide behind your Horcruxes anymore either. I enjoyed destroying them, by the way. The parts of your soul made very entertaining screams when they left their containers.'

The smile dropped off Voldemort's face like stinksap. 'I see you have found out about my secret,' he said finally. 'I suppose I should repay you for that.'

He unleashed a short barrage of curses, feeling some of his fury return.

The boy managed to shield from most of it, but wasn't so lucky this time when he caught a slicing curse on the leg cutting it off at the knee.

With a shout, the boy fell, clutching the bleeding stump of his left leg.

'That's one part of you for one part of my soul.' Voldemort said softly.

Just then he snapped his wand to the side, shielding from a magical attack he sensed coming from there.

'YOU SHALL NOT HARM HARRY POTTER!' Dobby screamed, launching another magical attack as he and Kreacher burst into the room.

'FOR MASTER REGULUS!' Kreacher said in his bullfrog voice, waving a kitchen knife.

'House-elves?!' Voldemort said with a mixture of wonderment and irritation. His moment of surprise was enough for Dobby to send him tumbling out of the drawing room and into the dining room.

Regaining his bearings, Voldemort shrugged off the second magical push.

'Your magic is strong,' he observed. 'But it lacks finesse. Allow me to show you why you shouldn't try to attack a wizard, _elf…_ '

Welding his wand like a sword, he dispatched Dobby with two swift spells. '…It's because we are better magic wielders than you could ever hope to be.' Voldemort said condescendingly. Stepping over the elf's body, he turned and caught a leaping Kreacher with a spell. 'Regulus Black's house-elf, eh?' He said with a leer. 'I should thank you for delivering Harry Potter into my clutches a month back, but your betrayals mean that you get death instead!'

With a snarl, he split the creature's body in two, revelling in the blood that spattered on his face.

He took a moment to savour the exhilaration coursing through his body. Rolling his shoulders, he strode towards the living room, easily catching up to the brat who was trying to crawl away.

'Oh that must hurt so much!' Voldemort said mockingly. 'And look at all that blood!' He clucked his tongue mockingly. 'We can't have you dying on me yet, can we, Harry? Here, allow me to help.'

Smiling sadistically, he cauterised the wound, relishing in the boy's screams of pain.

Somehow, Harry had managed to hold onto consciousness, though he was weeping piteously.

'Now, let's see,' Voldemort said thoughtfully. 'Which part of your body should I take off next?' he loomed over the downed teenager.

It turned out to be a mistake. Suddenly the teenager's wand was pointed right at his face, spewing golden fire at him.

Voldemort jerked away, screaming in a mix of pain and rage. The fire had burned the borrowed wand into cinders, badly singeing his hand as well. Clutching his burnt face, he screamed some more, this time in rage as he blindly searched for his original wand.

Grasping it, he blindly unleashed a blasting curse, somehow managing to blow the boy's wand along with the hand holding it.

With a roar of rage, Voldemort unleashed a battery of hexes and curses at the boy, careful not to slip and use the Killing Curse.

Breathing heavily, he staggered over the brat's body. He had been blinded in his right eye, limiting his vision. His dominant hand had taken quite a beating, bearing the brunt of the flames. He slowly switched his wand to his left hand and knelt down to take a better look at the body. One look at it told him that he had succeeded. The boy was dead!

Just to be sure, he slashed his wand across the boy's neck, separating the head from the body. Picking the head up by the hair, he leered into the lifeless eyes. 'I win.'

Suddenly he felt cold steel rip through his back and out of his chest.

Dropping the head, he slowly looked down. There was a sword blade sticking out of his chest. _How odd,_ a distant part of him noted.

That's when the pain made itself known. Gasping, he tried futilely to reach for the handle at the back.

The darkness creeping into his vision horrified him more than anything else. This had not happened the last time when his Killing Curse had been reflected back to him!

 _They had managed to get all my Horcruxes!_ Was the horrifying thought that permeated throughout his brain.

His brain shut down then and he slumped over, dead, before he could even begin to think how they could have found them all.

* * *

 **I know ... quite tragic.**

 **Ah that reminds me.**

 **Warning: character death. An important character dies in this chapter**

 ** **(I really should stop forgetting to put these things up at the beginning of the chapter - this is the second time it's happening to me!)****

 **Tune in next week for the ultimate chapter. That's when you shall see the my take on the second popular concept in this fandom. I'll give you guys a week to theorise what that concept will be.  
**

 **And before the fire and brimstone start raining down on me, I would like to point out that there is one more chapter. As they say, "It ain't over till it's over."**

 **Of course, there is an epilogue too. So I guess that means two more Fridays of new chapter alerts for this story!**


	22. Life

**Here we go, the final chapter.**

 **Now this chapter will go down a very ... odd path. It's something I have been thinking of ever since I first started writing this story. So I hope you like it!**

* * *

'The Acromantula have left their nest,' the young centaur gasped, his flanks slick with sweat from running a very long distance at breakneck speeds.

Tightening the straps of his chest plate one final time, Ronan smiled grimly. Picking up his helmet, he picked up his goblin-steel sword and turned.

'Centaurs!' He said loudly. 'Hagrid's pet is no more, and most of their capable fighters have left to fight the human battle. The time is right for us to strike and rid our lands of the foul presence of the Acromantula.'

The assembled herd of centaurs all waved their assorted weapons in the air, and stamped their hooves, roaring their approval in response.

'We have prepared for this, let's not tarry further!' Turning around, Ronan reared on his hind legs, raising his sword into the air. 'CHARGE!'

As he landed on all four hooves, Ronan jammed his helmet on his head and joined the rest of the centaurs as they all galloped towards the nest at full speed.

Reaching a few metres short of the nest, the herd slowed their speed and began to cautiously make their way forward. Picking his way around a tree silently, Ronan reflected that this opportunity would have been lost to them were it not for a note pinned to a tree with an arrow courtesy of Firenze.

Perhaps they would have to review his status within the herd soon…

Like the wizards, the centaurs too had acquired a variety of arms and armour from the goblins. Also, like the wizards, they had hung onto those when the greedy little creatures started to demand more payment for items that had already been sold. But unlike the wizards, they hadn't been able to develop a versatile tool that could compensate for the lack of fresh weapons when they told those money-grubbing things what they could do with their demands.

For good measure, the centaur herds all over the world had elected to do away with goblin gold as currency.

Not that it mattered. Those vicious little things had long been bought to heel thanks to the wizards, and were no longer able to make weapons, having long lost the knowledge of the craft. Now all they could do was gnash their teeth and rail at the perceived injustice of wizards not sharing their secrets of wand-making.

The end result of it all was that there were more centaur archers than swordsmen. It was these archers that had silently taken up spots at the far edge of the nest, awaiting the signal.

With a short nod from Ronan, Bane blew into a goat-horn, sounding out the battle cry.

Soon, it was raining flaming arrows. Acromantula silk was as highly flammable as it was valued. By the time the giant spiders could form a cohesive resistance, most of the nest was afire.

Only a few managed to make it past the hailstorm of arrows. Pincers clicking madly, they fell upon the herd of attacking centaurs who were more than up to the task of dispatching them.

Yanking his sword out of the last body, Ronan turned to Bane. 'You and a few men can take care of any casualties and dispense with any surviving creatures. Then meet up with me at the outskirts of the human village.'

Bane nodded. 'Do you trust the humans?' he asked in a low voice.

'I trust Albus Dumbledore.' Ronan replied. 'I know he will keep his word and ensure we are left alone after all this.'

'And what of Firenze?'

'What of him?'

Rearing on his hind legs once more, he set off, followed by some of the herd.

* * *

Dumbledore stood in the middle of the street in Hogsmeade, looking at the carnage around him.

The Death Eaters had launched quite an offensive, resulting in the most intense battle the village had seen since the last goblin rebellion that had nearly wiped the goblins out. This was the first time they had struck a magical settlement in such a Viking-style fashion, and quite a departure from their normal methods of striking Muggle-rich areas or places that had only a few wizarding homes.

At first, when he had joined the battle, it was proving to be easy. The optimistic thought had crossed his mind that it would be over soon. It was possible that the Death Eaters weren't as used to having victims capable of fighting back on an equal footing, and were thus on the back-foot. It was one thing to strike fear into your opponents using guerrilla tactics and quick snatch-and-grab operations that they were famous for. It was another thing to engage in all-out battle like this where the Auror force had enough time to arrive and join the fight.

Tom had taken the loss of his Horcruxes hard indeed.

Just as it was winding down, with the last stragglers holed up in a row of houses, fighting furiously, a large bunch of Death Eaters appeared on the opposite side of town.

The presence of the reinforcements was not noted till they started attacking the Aurors and Order members from the side. Remus had been the first causality, struck down in front of Dumbledore's eyes, a jet of green light ending his life.

Suddenly their victory was fast slipping as they were forced to defend from two fronts. Matters were not helped by the arrival of dementors, giants and a good portion of the convicted Death Eaters who somehow had managed to break out of prison right under the Ministry's noses.

Not for the first time, Dumbledore cursed the new Minister. Rufus Scrimgeour was just as much of a politician as Fudge and hadn't done the sensible thing and removed the demons from Azkaban, somehow deluding himself into thinking that the creatures were with the Ministry. He had the sneaking suspicion that all the Aurors at the prison had been Kissed.

And he really couldn't tell the Minister off, either. The man had been one of the first to fall to them, his soul sucked out after being isolated and mobbed by a horde of the creatures. Scrimgeour had died in battle like a true martyr. Not that he would be remembered as such, if Dumbledore had anything to say about it. He had just about enough of people like Fudge and Scrimgeour.

And so it was left to Dumbledore to lead the defenders. Now, the headmaster would be the first person to tell you that he was a powerhouse, an experienced and skilled fighter who was talented in magic. But there was one shortcoming that he had; he was not the best at directing troops in battle.

But he had no choice. So he did his level best. Thankfully, he had planned ahead weeks back, something he was good at. His ideas for the defence of the village upon an imminent Death Eater attack (however unlikely it had seemed at the time) had helped the residents and the few members of his Order to effectively fight back or escape.

Trusting the people under him to handle themselves, he gave a small group the task of dispatching the two giants. Hagrid and his brother were tasked with dealing with the Acromantula swarm that had come out of the forest, something the half-giant did with grim determination, having taken personal offence at the treachery displayed by Aragog's children.

Dumbledore had anticipated the possibility of the Acromantula joining the Death Eaters. That was why he had been in contact with the centaurs. He hoped that they had the good sense to capitalise on the reduced population at the nest and end the colony of Acromantula for good. He fully intended to ensure that they were all destroyed once this ugliness was over. They might have a right to life, but not at the expense of his students and the good folk of Hogsmeade.

He knew exactly who were capable of casting a Patronus, so those people were tasked with driving the dementors away.

He and the rest were going to deal with the Death Eaters.

He threw himself into the fight, taking on as many opponents as possible by using his talents and his reputation. In the beginning he was hampered by the fact that his wand did not work as well as it used to ever since he had been disarmed by Harry. But he managed to plug that weakness by picking up the wand of a thoroughly defeated Rabastan Lestrange and continuing the fight, using the Elder Wand in his off hand to cast the odd spell. At one point he had managed to handily take on and defeat ten of the reprobates at one go, making the whole thing look laughably easy as he did so, galvanising his people and demoralising the enemy in the process.

Thankfully his foresight, the competence of his fellows complimented heavily by luck saved the day. By mid-afternoon, the last of the Death Eaters were being rounded up.

Siphoning the blood off his face with a spell, Dumbledore stooped to pick up a weakened Fawkes. His phoenix had swallowed a Killing Curse meant for him, saving his life once more.

'We really should stop doing this Fawkes,' he quipped, depositing the chirping bird into a pocket.

His phoenix secured, he moved through the battlefield.

While their side had definitely won, they had taken many losses. The Weasleys had forever lost Percy before having the chance to make amends. The unfortunate lad was one of the first to die, having been caught unawares _en route_ to The Hog's Head. Albus did not want to think of what the young man was planning on doing there so early in the morning.

But the one loss he was hit by the most was Aberforth. The barman had managed to take out five Death Eaters before losing his life to a blasting hex that he took to the chest.

Albus was reflecting on this sad news when the Patronus came.

'We are under attack,' the stag said in Harry's voice, sending a chill down Dumbledore's spine. 'Voldemort's here.'

Dumbledore ran as fast as he could. The battlefield was saturated with chaotic magic, making travel by Apparition or Portkey impossible.

He reached the spot where the healers from St Mungo's had Apparated with the knowledge that he had taken far too long traversing the village. While he hadn't suffered any injuries, he was still tired from the battle, and it showed. Collecting himself, he twisted into the nothingness.

He appeared on the cliff face a bit away and behind the house Harry lived in.

Hurrying forward, he slowly eased open the back door and listened for any sound from within. There was no reason to alert anyone of his presence at the moment.

The silence that emanated was both deafening and worrying.

He paused for a moment to look at the corpses of the two House-Elves. The state of Kreacher's body told him that Voldemort had found out the identity of the poor thing before killing him.

He slowly eased open the door leading to the drawing room.

What he saw inside drove all coherent thought out of his mind.

The room was utterly destroyed, telling a story of an epic battle. And in the centre of it all lay Lord Voldemort, clearly deceased.

But Dumbledore didn't register that. All he could see was the body underneath. The wand he had won from Rabastan clattered to the floor.

A dim part of him wondered where the Elder Wand had gone, as he physically moved Voldemort's body out of the way with a shaking hand, hoping against hope. He was sure he was holding it before he Disapparated.

He inhaled sharply when he saw what was underneath. Tears sprang from his eyes as he saw the mangled headless body of his most favourite student and the head that lay a short distance away.

The last time he had felt such grief was when Ariana had died.

'Ugh, what a mess.'

'Yes,' Dumbledore said automatically. Turning his head to the source of the noise, he did a double-take.

'Oh Harry,' he breathed, his voice breaking. 'Oh, my little one I am so, so sorry. I tried to come here as fast as I could. But I was too late.' He enveloped the toddler in his arms, shielding him from the grisly tableau behind him. 'Your daddy fought so bravely.'

'Albus, it's ok,' the toddler said. 'Do you mind, you're crushing me.'

'Harry?! Since when did you talk?' Dumbledore asked the toddler, surprised. He pulled back to get a good look at the little boy.

The boy was covered in blood from head to foot. 'It's not mine,' he said noticing Dumbledore's concerned look. 'I got sprayed when I stabbed Voldemort with this.' He gestured to the sword of Gryffindor that he had dropped when Dumbledore had hugged him.

Dumbledore was flummoxed. ' _You stabbed Voldemort_?' he asked incredulously.

'Well, there was nobody else here to do it.'

'… Is that my wand?'

Harry looked down at the wand he was clutching. 'Huh, so it is.' He said softly. 'I wondered how I ended up with it, but I wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I used it to summon the sword and stab him.'

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. Not only was the child unusually chatty but the speech patterns and mannerisms were very familiar….

The boy smiled expectantly. 'Figured it out yet, Albus?'

'Harry,' the old wizard said, surprised. Sitting down properly, he looked at the child once more, utterly dumbfounded. 'What … what happened?'

'Well, I have no idea,' Harry said, sitting down in front of the headmaster cross-legged. 'All I know is one moment I am on my back, my leg's been cut off and my wand's blown up along with my hand.' He grimaced, flexing his whole unblemished right hand. 'You have no idea how much that hurt, by the way. Bastard there cauterised my leg too! And before you say anything, I am actually stating a fact by calling him a bastard. His parents were never married, as far as I know.'

Dumbledore cleared his throat pointedly.

'Right,' Harry said, 'As he was leaning over me contemplating which part of my body he should hack off next, my wand did something funny. I am pretty sure that it dragged my hand up to his face and let loose a big burst of fire that got him good.' He looked at Dumbledore dubiously.

'Wands are known to react in unexpected ways when their master is threatened,' Dumbledore said thoughtfully. 'Your wand, especially, shares or used to share a brother core with Voldemort's wand. I think the night you bested him, your wand may have taken on some of his deadly skill.'

'Interesting,' Harry said, the thoughtful frown looked quite out of place on such a young face. 'Anyway, that just pissed him off more. He sent some spell that blew my hand and wand up. Then he started cursing me with Merlin knows what. At first it hurt, a lot! But then it just stopped hurting and everything went dark. And then … I was looking down from the top of the stairs in my invisibility cloak. It was just like closing your eyes and opening them somewhere entirely different. I wonder if that's what sleep-walking feels like…'

Harry trailed off, looking into the distance. 'So,' he said, shaking himself from his thoughts. 'As I am walking down, I realise that I am way shorter than before. It didn't take me long to figure out I was in my clone's body.

'When I reached the entrance of the drawing room, your wand suddenly appeared in my hand. I peeked in to see that bastard still cursing my body, and let me tell you that is quite disturbing. Anyway, I notice that while the room is all but destroyed, the Sword of Gryffindor was still in its case over the mantelpiece, untouched.'

Harry flexed his left hand. 'This kid sure is talented in magic,' he said admirably. 'I am surprised that he didn't get into more trouble. The instinctual level with which he wields it is amazing! Summoning the sword with this wand or any other wand was never so easy. I doubt I would have been able to do it as well with my old wand!'

Dumbledore tried not to be disturbed by the smile of savage victory that came on Harry's face. That was not an expression that suited a three-year-old.

'He didn't see me coming at all,' Harry said victoriously. 'His reaction to having a sword sticking out of his chest was … quite funny!' He paused thoughtfully. 'You know, for a great big sword, it is surprisingly light! I thought it would have been a bit heavier for a four-year-old.'

Having finished his story, the boy fell back on the floor, stretching his legs out. 'It's over!' he declared. 'Voldemort is gone.' Lifting his head, he asked Dumbledore. 'Any idea how I ended up in this body? I must say I thought I was a goner for sure! My mother told me that the blood protection means that Voldemort himself could never kill me, no matter how many times he tried. But honestly, how does one come back to life when they are decapitated?!'

Dumbledore pensively stroked his beard. 'Do you remember what I told you about the circumstances resulting in Harry's discovery?'

'Yes,' Harry said, frowning. 'They promised not to kill him, er, me, if we didn't blab about the whole thing to anyone, mainly the press. You managed to twist their arm more by having everything related to Harry being made destroyed including the memories of the people working in the project.'

'Yes. While we managed to get everyone, the lead researcher, a Miss Senna managed to escape us. She eventually died, due to a tragic accident. When I was being appraised of that news, Croaker told me something disturbing. He said that Little Harry had no soul, no sense of self.

'At first I dismissed his words out of hand, but then I got to thinking … the boy had never shown any true sense of self. He was far too quiet for someone of his age. Unnaturally so. The only time he was active or behaving like a regular child was when he was around you.' The headmaster paused, considering his next words. 'What was telling was how he gravitated towards you and wouldn't let anyone touch him but you. You were also the only person he spoke to at all.'

Harry thought about this. 'What about the incident in your office?' he said. 'He was nowhere near me then.'

'That did throw me initially,' Dumbledore admitted. 'But then I considered the amount of time he spent with you. It is possible that being close to his original, that is you, may have slowly given him that sense of self. It is entirely possible that a bond had formed between the two of you linking you to each other. Why in time, I wager it will be a lot like the bond shared between Voldemort and you until recently. Of course, hopefully without all the … negative connotations.'

'What about Ron? He went to Ron quite readily.'

'I have noticed a pattern when studying the how he interacted with other people,' Dumbledore said at length. 'Tell me, Harry, how do you feel about me, Ron, Mrs Weasley, Hermione and Ginny? Please be honest. I won't hold it against you.'

Harry thought about this. 'Well, with you I feel some, ah, well, trust,' he finally said, feeling a bit uncomfortable. 'You are like a – a mentor of sorts.'

'You honour me.' Dumbledore said heavily. 'And what of the other people I mentioned?'

'Well, Ron is my best friend!' Harry said automatically. 'I've known him the longest. Hermione is also nice, but she tends to be a bit … much … at times. Ginny is … well, I think she is a bit special,' here he blushed.

'Ah,' Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. 'Fair enough, and what of Mrs Weasley?'

'Mrs Weasley? Well, it is a bit complicated …' Harry trailed off. 'She is nice. But she scares me sometimes, you know...?'

'Now think about how Little Harry felt around those same people.'

Harry took a moment. 'He felt the same way,' he said wonderingly. 'Only it was more … extreme with him.'

'Indeed. You were the most comfortable around young Mr Weasley, as was he. The same applies to everyone else. I suspect that he was copying you on some level.'

'He also did everything I told him,' Harry said wonderingly. 'Every damn thing! He whinged, but he obeyed.' He gave a little laugh. 'That explains his desire to go after my Firebolt!'

'He seems to be a reflection of your soul.' Dumbledore said musingly. 'I suspect that it was this bond that allowed you to come back, if you will, in this body. I also believe that the blood protection of your mother's did its job as your mother told you. Instead of returning you to your old body because of the … extensive damage done, it put you in your clone's. You do share the same blood, and the same protection, after all.'

'That is so screwed up,' Harry muttered.

Dumbledore silently agreed with his sentiments. 'If it makes you feel better,' he said tiredly. 'This is just a theory and it is quite possible that I am wildly wrong. I am afraid I won't be able to tell you exactly what happened.' Feeling his legs beginning to cramp up, he laboriously got to his feet. Picking up Rodolphus' old wand, he conjured an armchair. With his beard twitching and his eyes twinkling, he scooped a very surprised Harry up and sank into his seat with a groan, plonking Harry on his lap.

'Why are you doing this?' Harry finally asked, wincing as he noticed for the first time the piping voice of a toddler that was coming out of his mouth.

'Just let me have this moment, Harry,' Dumbledore said heavily his eyes closed as he slowly relaxed into the chair. 'It has been a long day. Besides, you may not appreciate or know this, but you are quite adorable right now. I have long wanted to indulge my grandfatherly feelings towards you, you know.'

'…Thanks…'

'Oh don't be so grumpy! Such an expression doesn't suit a three-year-old!'

'… fine.' Harry snuggled in a little. 'I … kind of like this.' He finally admitted reluctantly. 'It's nice. You stink though.'

'Well, you aren't smelling all that great either,' Dumbledore said lightly.

They sat in companionable silence.

'So how are you feeling, Harry?'

'Albus, I am physically three, how do you think I feel?' Harry sat up, holding his arms out. 'See this? No hair! None. All of that's gone! There is not a single strand of hair anywhere on my body except on my head. My voice sounds like a girl's, and just when I was getting used to not being short and skinny, well, I am back to being short and skinny! I was taller than you just this morning and just a little shorter than Ron! Oh, and if that's not enough, my emotions are all over the place because there's a part of me that's still three.' He crossed his arms and pouted. 'This sucks!'

'If it is any consolation,' Dumbledore said, with a twinkle in his eye, 'Tomorrow you will turn four.'

'I can hardly contain my excitement,' Harry said sardonically. 'How did the battle at Hogsmeade go,' he asked sombrely, half dreading the answer.

The twinkle left Dumbledore's eyes. 'We won, but we suffered many losses,' he said sombrely. 'Out of the casualties, you would know Remus Lupin, Percy Weasley, Rufus Scrimgeour, Ted Tonks and …' his voice grew heavy. 'My brother, Aberforth.'

Harry winced. 'I am sorry to hear about your brother. Say, wasn't he the bartender at The Hog's Head?'

'We were never that close, Harry.' Dumbledore smiled a little sadly. 'Not for many years now. And you are right, he was the bartender at The Hog's Head.'

'I thought he looked familiar,' Harry muttered.

'I never knew Lupin all that well,' he finally said. 'He was quite distant.'

'He was always a private person,' Dumbledore replied distantly. 'Even as a child I found him painfully formal. It might have been a result of his affliction.'

'How is Tonks dealing with it?'

'Nymphadora was well the last time I saw her. But it is too early to tell.'

'And she is carrying Lupin's kid too.'

Dumbledore blinked. 'I'm sorry?'

'Oh,' Harry grimaced. 'I noticed that Lupin and Tonks were attracted to each other. I overheard her talking to Mrs Weasley about it. And in addition to not needing glasses to see, this new body of mine can perceive magic in ways no one else can. He had noticed a change in Tonks the last time she came in but didn't know what it meant. I expect she will figure it out herself later.'

'Extraordinary.'

'Yes … so what now?'

'I don't quite understand.'

'What happens now?' Harry repeated. 'I am for all intents and purposes de-aged. I would have emphatically told you that there is no way I am going back to the Dursleys, but then I remembered the good news you shared with me this morning that Petunia is, thankfully, dead. That means there is no way you can even consider them as an option. Of course, people need to know that Voldemort is gone for good, so what do we tell them without having the Department of Mysteries down our throats.'

'I was thinking about that, actually,' Dumbledore said lightly. 'There are so many ways we can spin it. After all, nobody really knows what happens when a person is struck by the Killing Curse not once or twice but three whole times. Who knows what effect it can have on a person? I doubt there will be anyone out there willing to try, even if they had a deep desire to prove you wrong. It also helps that you haven't really been seen in public for quite a while. I am sure I can spin a convincing tale to persuade the average witch and wizard into believing that you never died, but suffered a … strange magical accident when fighting Voldemort one last time and actually defeating him that lead to your current condition.'

'Ooh,' Harry piped up. 'You can say that the phoenix tears from Fawkes mixed with the basilisk venom from Slytherin's monster and gave me phoenix-like powers, which is why when cursed by a Killing Curse, I rose from the ashes so young!'

As if hearing his name, the aforementioned phoenix poked its head out. The dirty looks the phoenix was giving him was complimented nicely by the flat look on his owner's face.

'I think that would be a hard one to pull off, Harry,' Dumbledore said at length. 'The public aren't _that_ stupid.'

Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore continued. 'As for your living arrangements … well, Harry Potter is technically still alive. I haven't had the opportunity to do anything about your clone's status. I was initially going to invent a Muggle girl who was the mother of your child, but that's not necessary anymore. So you are still a legally emancipated minor as far as the government is concerned. And you will be happy to know that you are still registered being born sixteen years back, so next year, you should be considered a legal adult despite being physically five.'

'You were actually going to do that?!' Harry asked incredulously. 'That is …'

'Convenient,' Dumbledore replied easily. 'It would not have mattered if the girl did not exist, I would have ensured that there was enough of a paper trail to prove that she had lived and possibly died tragically giving birth to your son. The age difference is a bit of a sticking point, but there I have heard of instances in the Muggle world of eleven-year-old boys fathering children. It wasn't a flawless plan, but with a little luck it could work. Thankfully, that isn't an avenue we have to pursue!'

Dumbledore peered at Harry's face. 'I see you have the same scar as in your old body.' He remarked.

'Yeah,' Harry grimaced. 'I am pretty certain that the scar is the reason why Voldemort over there found me. The Department of Mysteries had put a cursed object in my clone's forehead. It was probably designed to track him and tear down any protections around him. Clearly they were thinking of a kidnapping scenario. Considering that Voldemort got his hands on it, I can wager a guess as to what really happened to that Senna woman. I am guessing that the scar design was a personal choice of hers.' He trailed off in disgust.

Dumbledore hummed. 'That is disturbing… do not worry, Harry, I will handle this.' Brightening momentarily, he continued. 'Well, at least the scar will convince people that you are still you and not someone else!'

Harry considered that.

'Can I do my sixth year like was I meant to this year? I don't think I would be up to repeating school. While it is true that Hogwarts has been my home for so long, I don't think I can stomach another bout of learning to swish and flick. Besides, I would probably traumatise the other kids my current physical age. Out of sheer boredom if nothing else.'

Dumbledore considered the request. 'Normally we allow those who are only eleven and above to start school. That is mainly because younger children cannot comprehend the theoretical aspects behind magic as well as older children. You having the mind and experience of a sixteen-year-old would mean that you aren't as limited as an average three, well, now four-year-old.' He paused. 'I think it might be possible. Of course, we will have to closely monitor your health. I do not know if your new body will be up to the task of dealing adequately with the stress your N.E.W.T. years will bring. This is a unique case, after all.'

'Great.' Harry hopped off the chair. 'I suppose I should get a new wand now. Oh, and that reminds me, here.' He held Dumbledore's wand out to the headmaster.

Dumbledore stared at the wand for a very long moment, not making any move to take it. 'Keep it, Harry.' He finally said. 'I think you have a greater use for it anyway.'

'What about you, sir?'

'I have found a suitable replacement,' Dumbledore said taking out an unfamiliar wand and showing it to him. 'It will do.' The smile he gave Harry was so genuine that it seemed to take years off.

Harry smiled back. He looked at the wand that was now his. 'It's a pretty great wand,' he said out loud. 'Even though it looks like a fossilised twig, my magic just seems to flow through it. I wonder what it is made of, though. It feels so powerful.'

'Thestral hair and wood of the elder tree.' Dumbledore said helpfully.

'Ah. Ollivander's?'

'No,' Dumbledore said with a smile. 'I got this wand long before Garrick took over from his father. The wand you hold was made by a very old wand maker who long went out of business.'

'Oh, what was his name?'

'Antioch Peverell.'

'Peverell …' Harry scratched his head. 'That name seems familiar...' He shrugged. 'Anyway, thanks for the wand. It's pretty neat!'

He stowed the elder wand away. 'So … what now?'

'I do believe that the Weasleys and Ms Granger will be congregating at The Burrow. Perhaps we can break the news to them first? Then you could stay with them while I get things sorted out with the Ministry.' He sighed. 'It looks like we'll need another Minister, now.'

'Hopefully that person won't be as bad as Fudge. Although, was Scrimgeour any good?'

'He had his moments. I do believe he was still haunted by the night of Voldemort's reveal. The poor man never got over the fact that he and his people stood by and did nothing while we fought Voldemort. The public certainly hasn't allowed him to forget that.'

Standing up, Dumbledore stretched. With a practised flick of the wand, he vanished the chair he was sitting on. A long sweep had the room repairing itself back to its former glory. Hearing clattering noises coming from outside the drawing room, Harry guessed that the damage to the rest of the house was being repaired as well.

'You think we can continue with the private lessons?' Harry asked curiously in his childlike voice.

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at him. 'Why not?' he finally said mildly. 'I definitely enjoyed myself. One-on-one instruction is certainly an enjoyable novelty. Now that the spectre of Voldemort is gone, I think I can properly enjoy giving you lessons! Maybe we can even cover the mind arts properly.' Looking outside, he sighed. 'Perhaps I can bow out of being the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump as well. The positions never held any interest for me, and honestly I think I have earned myself a bit of a break.'

'Indeed, sir,' Harry said wholeheartedly.

Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore slowly turned his attention towards the centre of the room where the last two bodies were situated.

'Allow me,' Harry said, aiming his new wand at Voldemort's corpse. He marvelled at how easy it was to move the body. Perhaps it was this body he had. Dumbledore was right when he said that the Unspeakables had made tweaks to ensure that Little Harry was as powerful as possible. Somehow, he felt like he had been given a fresh start. He might explore this body's potential for doing magic without a wand…

He glanced at his old body. Unable to look at it any longer, he vanished it, marvelling at how easy it was to use the vanishing spell now. 'I am going to be having nightmares of that,' he declared. 'What about Dobby and Kreacher? They died heroes, trying to protect me.'

'Yes, they were very brave and noble.' Dumbledore said. 'Do you have anything in mind?'

Harry thought about it. 'Perhaps a funeral and burial outside the house? It is only right…'

'Very well.' Saying so, the headmaster exited the room and returned shortly with two small ornately carved caskets. 'I have placed preserving charms on them, it should hold till tomorrow when we can have a proper burial and funeral if that is your wish?'

Harry nodded.

'Then I shall leave them here for now.' Almost reverently, he placed the caskets side by side near the front door.

'Come, we have an appointment with Molly Weasley and one final task.' Dumbledore held his hand out.

'What's that?' Harry asked, unconsciously holding the headmaster's hand.

'Convincing her not to adopt you as a seventh son.'

The two of them headed towards the newly repaired front door and the setting sun outside.

'Hang on a minute,' Harry extracted his hand from the headmaster's 'Why did I do that?' he muttered to himself confused.

Dumbledore chuckled. 'You were right when you said that your four-year-old self isn't fully gone.'

Taking care of Moody's remains, the two Disapparated from Harry's house to spread word and meet friends.

The celebrations had already begun though. Somehow news of Voldemort's possible demise had already spread. That would soon intensify once it was confirmed.

Harry did not know what the future held, but he knew, at least, that it would be peaceful.

Perhaps his last two years at Hogwarts would be quiet for a change.

* * *

'Hello, Saul,'

The softly spoken words were more than enough to bring Saul Croaker to full awareness. With a start, he realised that he was sitting in an armchair in his own drawing room wearing only his underwear.

It wasn't the state of undress that had him concerned, however, for it was about the same time he noticed the restraints placed on him.

'I wouldn't bother struggling, Saul,' said the voice.

Snapping his gaze forward, his face showed his confusion when he identified his captor.

'Dumbledore? What is the meaning of this?!'

'Well,' said the headmaster casually. 'I think it is rather obvious. I am holding you captive and unarmed, after all.'

'How did you get in?'

'Quite easily,' Dumbledore replied dryly. 'The protective charms around your house aren't much of a match for one of my talents. But don't be discouraged, Saul. Few can match me.'

Unnerved, Croaker looked at the headmaster properly. He had thought that he would never see the otherwise kindly and slightly dotty headmaster look so dangerous after that meeting so many weeks back. He wasn't happy to see it again. 'W-what do you want?' he asked slowly.

'Well,' Dumbledore said with a disarming smile that did nothing to ease the dread Croaker was feeling. 'Over the past several weeks, I have had the opportunity to see for myself the true face of the Department of Mysteries and the man who is in charge. And I must admit my findings concern me greatly.'

'So you came here to ascertain the truth?' Croaker asked derisively. 'I have already told you all I know!'

'Ah?' Dumbledore said softly. 'But that was _voluntarily_! When you could choose what to tell me and what to keep out. Well, this time, especially after … recent events, I am not going to be giving you that choice.' Saying so, he reached into his robes and retrieved an opaque phial. 'No, I find that I cannot trust you to have told me all of the truth considering that a young man's life hangs in the balance, and the knowledge you undoubtedly have.'

'What is that, Veritaserum?' Saul scoffed. 'Like that will work.' He started immediately shoring up his willpower to resist the potion. Long practice with resisting it had made it more than easy.

'Oh, this thing?' Dumbledore said brightly. 'No, no, no! This is a special concoction of mine, created not through the discipline of Potions, but Alchemy.' With a tap of his wand, the stopper flew out. The opaqueness of the container meant that Saul couldn't tell what the contents within looked like, but he could see that they let off a bright yellow light that bathed Dumbledore's face rather ominously.

'You can't do this!' Saul said, panicked. 'This is illegal!'

'Well, you will find that I, in fact, _can_ ,' Dumbledore said cheerfully. 'After all, "can" according to the English Language, is a function of ability. The question you should be asking is whether I _should_. And, well, there are a lot of things people should not be doing. I certainly shouldn't be feeding you experimental alchemical concoctions, even if there is no law specifically forbidding it. But then, you shouldn't have been cloning humans without their knowledge or permission … so here we are.'

The headmaster stood up and leaned over the hapless man. Resistance was futile as the old man's magic was more than up to the task of forcing Saul's mouth open. A bright luminescent drop of liquid, glowing like the sun, poured out of the phial, floated till it was above Saul's mouth and dived in.

The liquid burned as it travelled down Saul's oesophagus. Looking down at his bare chest, he could see a bright light marking the passage of what he had ingested as it reached his stomach. The light then spread through his entire body, taking all conscious thought from him.

Soon enough, he was singing like a canary, candidly and truthfully answering all of Dumbledore's questions with exacting detail, with very little probing.

'Thank you, Saul,' Dumbledore said pleasantly once the man regained his wits. 'I hope you enjoyed the experience of this libation of mine. It is too bad that you won't be remembering anything of our little tête-à-tête.' Saying so, he pointed his wand and said 'Obliviate.'

With expertise borne of years of practising magic, Albus wiped clean every little detail from Saul Croaker's mind pertaining to the project, and Harry Potter. As he suspected, the man knew quite a bit of the cloning process. Enough to restart it once again. This wasn't something he could allow to happen ever again. He also couldn't allow for the boy to be snatched up by the Department for "experiments" in the future either.

Done with the memory charm, Dumbledore retrieved the hidden documented research, using the knowledge he had gained from Saul. With a sigh, he left the house.

He had two more people to see to before the night was over. Two more people to take care of before Harry was well and truly safe.

It was high time the Department of Mysteries got a thorough cleaning, anyway.

* * *

 **And here we go, the final chapter and my take on another popular concept in this fandom: Harry getting de-aged/thrown into a younger version of his body.  
**

 **Thoughts?**

 **Anyway, till the epilogue!**


	23. Epilogue

Harry appeared at his destination silently. He took a moment to look at the house he was about to enter.

He had sold his house to Ron and Hermione a year after they had all finished their academic careers at Hogwarts.

Truthfully, he wanted to gift the place to the young couple as a wedding present, but neither of them would hear of such a thing. 'That's far too generous, Harry!' Hermione had said decisively, Ron agreeing with her silently but with equal decidedness.

Her words had nearly caused a temper tantrum, but Harry had long managed to master his new body's emotions. It was a close thing, though.

He had very reluctantly agreed to sell the place to them, thinking that he could at least give it away at a discounted price. Unfortunately, Hermione was far too crafty to fall for that trick and had the property valued at a fair price which she paid for in full.

Harry shook his head in fond remembrance at the antics of his friends. He still didn't know how Hermione found the money to buy a house for herself fresh out of school. Then again, her parents were very successful dentists.

His last two years at Hogwarts had been quite peaceful to say the least.

Ron, like the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione had been quite shocked initially to know that their friend was now inhabiting the body of his clone. They somehow managed to get over it by the time school started.

News of his circumstances had reached far and wide by the time he had to board the Hogwarts Express for his sixth year.

As far as everyone who wasn't in the know was concerned, he had become de-aged in the final battle with Lord Voldemort himself while the Death Eaters tried to take Hogsmeade and Hogwarts by force. Because of this, many of his schoolmates treated him with a healthy dollop of respect.

There were some exceptions, mainly a few older students who thought he could be pushed around because he looked like a four-year-old. Those were easily taken care of when Harry showed how proficient he was with and without a wand, as he had started developing rudimentary skills in wandless magic.

Harry had also found that his size made him a much faster and more agile Seeker. He used this to his advantage as Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain along with his magical senses and his newfound proficiency in wandless magic to easily get the Snitch in every match. Had anyone known of his abilities, they may have called it cheating, but Harry had been very careful to keep those abilities a secret known only to himself. He would have felt guilty about it, but then again, there wasn't anything in the rulebook prohibiting the use of such abilities, and he really wasn't bothered in playing fair. As Ron told him once upon a time in their sixth year after finding out that Harry had tricked him into playing well, "All's fair in love, war and Quidditch"

And honestly, after Hermione's reaction to him using the notes written by the previous owner of an old potions textbook, he was not going to be sharing such secrets. He loved his friend dearly, and she was a really nice person, but sometimes she could be a real stick-in-the-mud. After all, it wasn't _his_ fault that the new Potions teacher had all but bullied him into taking the N.E.W.T. classes. It was true that Horace Slughorn was a much better teacher than Snape, but Harry had long lost any love for the subject. So if he ended up getting an old textbook from some old student who called himself the Half-Blood Prince, he wasn't going to be complaining, especially when it benefitted him in Potions so greatly.

Well, Dumbledore knew about his abilities, but the old headmaster hadn't told anyone to Harry's knowledge.

His onetime rival, Draco Malfoy, had largely stopped trying to antagonise him and his friends. Harry had a suspicion that the blond had spoken to his father who had been honest about how close the family had been to feeling Voldemort's wrath over the diary.

A normal person would have been grateful for the warning and having the source of his impending doom neutralised. But Malfoy wasn't one of those. Instead, the boy had taken to largely ignoring Harry and his friends.

Although, it was more likely the blond didn't want more attention on him, considering that his father had been caught and sent back to Azkaban with an increased sentence. It would be a long time indeed before Lucius Malfoy saw the light of day as a free man.

News of Snape's death had become known a day after Voldemort's downfall. While Dumbledore was sure to tell the Wizengamot about Snape still being a spy for the light, that story didn't really gain much traction with The Court of Public Opinion. A legion of embittered students who were now in many various fields nursing a grudge against the prickly man ensured that he was eventually forgotten over time. There had been quite a bit of resistance in Dumbledore's attempts in honouring the man.

Not that Harry blamed Dumbledore. It was the right thing to do, even if Harry counted himself as among the first in line of those objecting.

Snape's replacement was also his predecessor. Horace Slughorn had won many a student over with his geniality and not being biased towards Slytherin. The house in question was quick to adapt, ceasing many of their antics.

All of that culminated to a relatively quiet two years for Harry. The only highlight of it being the drama that came with Ron and Hermione finally realising that they liked each other.

The reminder of (as Harry termed it) The Saga of Lavender and Ron bought a fond smile of remembrance. _That_ bit of drama had lasted for the entirety of his sixth year, ending explosively in the literal sense of the word with Ron breaking up with Lavender using Fred and George's Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs.

Lavender had responded with a nice large packet of Dungbombs. Thankfully the only collateral damage had been Ron's bed.

Hell really hath no fury and all that.

Harry took a few moments to pay his respects at Dobby and Kreacher's graves. The last time he had been here was after his seventh year had ended.

He had kept up with his arrangement with Dumbledore. Classes were a breeze thanks to that. He had finished with top marks in his N.E.W.T.s. As promised, the headmaster had promptly resigned from his positions as Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump a day before the start of Harry's sixth year. His passion, after all (as he told Harry when giving him the news) was teaching.

His batch had the novelty of having what looked like a five-year-old as Head Boy. The school photograph was taken with him on Ron's shoulders.

Initially, Harry lacked in direction after finishing school. That was soon remedied when one morning he woke up holding an inscribed stone signifying an invitation to join the Uagadou School of Magic after one very interesting dream.

He suspected that Dumbledore had something to do with that invitation, although the old wizard had declined all knowledge of that.

Harry spent five years there. In addition to wandless magic, he took up the subject of self-transfiguration. His background at Hogwarts under the tutelage of Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall having given him an interest in the subject.

By the time he left the African school, he had acquired the title of Sorcerer, signifying his mastery of Wandless Magic and Transfiguration.

After that, he had spent another five luxurious years touring the world, taking full advantage of his inheritance. He dabbled a bit in duelling, using his mastery of both wanded and wandless magic to great advantage. Few had managed to combine the two disciplines, making Harry rather unique in that field. Although, he suspected that none had a wand so compatible and in tune with them as his elder wand was. Dumbledore's old wand worked far better with him than his old holly and phoenix wand.

It was quite amusing seeing the faces of his opponents as they were bested by what looked like a prepubescent child.

Taking a deep breath, Harry headed towards his old house. While he had kept in touch with his friends and their families, even visiting them on many an occasion, he had started to feel rather homesick. So he had elected to return to Britain as soon as he got the title of Grand Sorcerer after being recognised as a master of Defence against the Dark Arts.

He had just settled into Grimmauld Place two days back. The townhouse that once belonged to the Black Family had long since been renovated and updated till it no longer looked as grim and old as it used to. It was now time to meet his friends and family.

'HARRY!'

Harry smiled genuinely as a gaggle of redheads rushed out to greet him. The whole family had gathered here to welcome him back, along with Theodore Lupin, Remus and Tonks' son. The poor boy had lost his mother a few years back to a petty criminal, but he was never wanting for affection. Harry may not have looked as old as his peers (and he certainly looked like the boy's older brother as the boy was growing up) but he had taken his role as the boy's godfather seriously.

'Hey, guys,' he said with a smile.

'You finally look your age, Potter,' Ron said with a smile, punching his old friend in the shoulder.

'It took me awhile,' Harry said, returning the gesture by clapping Ron's back heartily. The long lifespans of wizards ensured that his friends looked as young as he did at the moment despite them being physically twenty-nine and him being seventeen.

'I'm taller than you, though,' he said with a big grin, deliberately standing next to his friend. This was a surprising development. Harry wagered that his old body was a bit stunted in growth thanks to his long dead and unlamented relatives.

Ron rolled his eyes and dragged his friend inside.

The day was spent in merriment. Harry took great pleasure in showing everyone the necklace Lavender had once bought Ron in their sixth year to the amusement of all the adults present once the kids had been put to bed. Ron retaliated with a photograph of a very grumpy Harry as the ring bearer next to a blushing Gabrielle Delacour at Bill Weasley's wedding.

'I forgot about that,' Harry groused looking remarkably like his four-year-old self.

'Bill did it because you looked cute,' Ron said with a wide grin. 'He told me recently … I agree! Remember how much Gabrielle kept wanting to be next to you throughout the wedding? Oh how she mothered you!'

Harry groaned, putting his head in his hands. 'I need a drink,' he said. With a waggle of his fingers, the firewhisky came soaring into his hands.

'So, how's the business?' he asked Fred and George, in an attempt to change the conversation.

'Pretty good!' Fred said. 'We have opened a store in Berlin recently and gained a contract with the ministry for our defensive line.'

'Ron's taking care of the Hogsmeade store,' George said. 'I don't think that was a good decision, to be honest.'

'Yeah, the sprogs haven't bought a single damn product from there thanks to him!' Fred said, pointing up towards the rooms to indicate their children.

'As if they would do anything with Neville and Ginny here teaching at Hogwarts!' Ron shot back waving a hand at the Longbottoms.

'What about you Harry?' Hermione Granger, the next in line to be the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement said. 'What are you going to do now that you're back.'

'Well,' Harry said stretching his legs out. 'My various business investments are doing quite well, so I don't really need a job. I did visit Dumbledore yesterday, you know. Old man's certainly enjoying his retirement. Anyway, I think once I physically turn twenty I'll apply for a position teaching Wandless magic. It certainly is useful!'

'Why so long?' Angelina, the woman crazy enough to marry Fred Weasley asked.

'I don't want to look as old as the final year students,' Harry said with a shrug. 'Besides, I'd like to spend a few more years just living the hedonistic life of the idle rich. Go out on parties, meet a few girls … Maybe I'll take up Professional Quidditch now that I can endure the Professional level Bludgers. Can you hook me up with a few of your old friends, Ginny?' he asked Neville's wife sweetly, giving her his best soulful look.

'Sure, Harry,' Ginny said, her face pinking up slightly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry wasn't too bothered. He may not have set goals, but it didn't matter for him.

He had a lot of time on his hands, after all!

* * *

 **And finally, the epilogue of this short story. I hope you enjoyed it!**


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